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It’s early in the morning.
So far today I’ve woken up and sat at my computer and searched ‘what day is today’ on Google.
On January 6 there’s a concert I want to go to.
The phone keeps ringing.
It was what woke me up.
But I didn’t answer it.
I think it’s my mom.
It might not be my mom, but there’s no one else I want to talk to anyways.
It keeps ringing though.
Like 15 times in twenty minutes.
I finally pick it up.
Someone starts talking immediately.
She says, “What the fuck? I’ve been calling for an hour, where the fuck have you been?”
I don’t say anything.
I do one of those snorting laughs.
I’m half nervous, half amused.
“Fuck you, you know what, fuck you,” she says and hangs up.
Google tells me that it’s January 5th.
I sit here, waiting for January 6th.
I start feeling bad about the girl.
I start thinking what if.
What if her boyfriend said he’d be there at so and so time or else he’d cut off his arm or something. And now he has to cut off his arm.
I pick up the phone and dial star 69.
She picks up immediately.
“Hey,” I say.
“Who’s this,” she says.
“You just called here,” I say.
“No I didn’t,” she says, “who is this?
“It’s John,” I say, “but you don’t know me.”
“I know you,” she says.
“Listen,” I say.
“No, you listen,” she says, louder, “I’m calling my brother right now and he’s going to go to your fucking house right now to kick in your fucking front teeth.”
She hangs up loud.
My heart starts beating really fast.
I stand up and sit down.
I hold my hand in my other hand.
I do redial on the phone.
No one answers.
I sit back down in front of the computer.
I get up and lock my door.
I live in a one-room apartment.
I go back to my computer.
I go to Google.
I search “what do i do if i hate my life but don't want to kill myself and i'm not really depressed either, i just feel like life is really really not good, but it's not not good enough for me to kill myself, it's kind of in between, but more on the bad side, and i” and then it won’t let me type any more words.
I click on Google Search.
I scan the results.
One of them is “My parents hate my friend”.
I scroll down.
I see “Why do I hate my wife”.
I see “My life sucks and I hate it”.
I click on this one.
It goes to another page.
I start reading.
It says “I’m 13 and in 8th grade”.
I stop reading.
I go to my bed and lay down.
I try to find the symbolism in the girl calling me, thinking I was someone else.
In my head, nothing happens.
I punch the wall and it hurts.
Tao Lin doesn't do vanity searches on Google.