n got his green card today, writing in the email, “my head is exploding!!!!!!”

and we shout back over email simply, “congratulations!!!!!!!”

nine years in the making and a filmographer from australia gets to stay for ten more without paying $1000 in fees every year and planning travel so carefully.

meanwhile, i listen to a 94.1 KPFA interview with a woman from honduras about the hysterectomy she almost received during her stay in ice detention.

i lock the door of the office at 5 pm. i have little buttons on my shirt.

it’s now evening and i’m sitting on the steps of the porch smoking a cigarette. i know i won’t sleep tonight. my heartbeat is slow.  my vision feels warped like i’m seeing out of fish eyes. i will check my phone incessantly and also never respond to anyone. 

the sun is intensely orange and visible when it’s setting in berkeley, like it’s closer to the earth somehow. i have to tell myself filing these forms is for the sake of practicality, but inside i harbor a dreadful feeling. it’s kind of like when your brother screams at you, and you are older and know better, but you scream back anyways with more vitriol. 

i look at the sun out of my fish eyes. my throat burns as i inhale more of my cigarette, chase it with a breath of orange air. the thickness feels violent.