“What do you carry?”
I carry pens and pens and pens because if I want to write and I don’t have a pen, I will feel like I have no voice.
I carry a Moleskin notebook with pages unlined. Because I must have a safety net to catch any idea, thought, or memory. If I can’t write it down, it might float away like a balloon or burst like a soap bubble.
I carry my phone — everywhere. Because I know implicitly how quickly things can fall apart, and I must be findable. I carry it everywhere, but I never make a call. Everything can be texted. Everything is.
I carry lip gloss. It is the icing on my cake, and what is cake without icing?
I carry hope and guilt.
I carry my headphones. An introvert’s secret weapon.
I carry kindness.
I carry a cup from McDonald’s.
I carry a plan for escape. I must know how and when I can leave.
I carry Xanax because having one with me is uaually all I need to keep from needing it.
or maybe and,
I don’t carry pencils.
I don’t carry water, though I know I should. (Stop it. I know.)
I don’t carry other people’s emotions, though this is an intentional decision and one I must choose and re-choose often.
I don’t carry any guarantees.
What do you carry? What don’t you carry?