Scrapes

I am proud because I feel like the kid who comes back from recess with a scraped knee and is very proud of himself. The poor ladies at security have to deal with my dramatic entry into the office huffing And puffing like a sexy action woman in vinyl who just saved the world and did everything no one else dares to, demanding sly and bracing a new security badge in exchange for my identity.

That part I'm not proud of...always forgetting my security badge, but I am proud of the crazy feeling of being different and proud, where in my biker clothes in the rich building with LCD screens and men in suits see me pass the turnstiles and must think, "either she is just really different, or the world is changing".

The best part about a conservative country entering the jaws of progress is that as it is swallowed whole, slowly like a snake, all these enzymes of change cover everything, people feel chewed, vital vitamins and minerals are extracted from all sides, its a great digestive process meanwhile all while being exposed to daylight (unless it is night). I suppose my snake metaphor is  bit morbid because of either the assumption that the large rodent is either pre-dead (standard operating procedures in large snake consumption) or dying a slow painful death.

Lets propose another concept. Let's not put a snake. Let's just think in terms of energy transfer (difficult for a vegetarian, I know). Let's say you are a molecule in the mouth of a snake.

Maybe I'm a tooth in the mouth of a snake. Either a tooth of the snake, or a tooth of the rodent making consumption rather uncomfortable because I'm covered with enamel which is particularly hard to dissolve, and can get uncomfortable given that the skull is the largest part, and we begin to pop off uncomfortably while going down the throat. Al tragarnos, hacemos daño.

OK let's say I am a tooth of the snake. This is also uncomfortable because I have to eat the rodent. The Lucky part here is that snakes do not chew, they just bite then swallow very slowly.

This whole metaphor is grossing me out and beginning to represent weird things rather than change.

My point was about enzymes in the mouth of change. Its uncomfortable, and its unclear what happens next. Disruptors facilitate the process but with potentially incendiary responses.

So about the scrapes?

Well, bicycles have a lot of black on them. Black tires that ride on black pavement in the wet and in the dry, they will mark you with smog smut and srup. Sometimes its when I turn my bike sideways, hoisting it up to hang securely in vertical position. I need leverage. I grab certain parts of the bike with strategic balance and hoist hoist hoist.

I end with marks on my forearm. On my face. I have heavy yet minty highway breath. My white pixie hair stands straight up. If she decided to do that, maybe they think, what else will she decide next? Who is this girl, do I relate to her? Is she being bad ass just to prove she can in mexico? Is it really necessary? Why such a loud statement, when everyone else is in a suit being very meek? Ocsssionally, a girl in stiletto boots with fur and fake snake skin, a sweater folded over the square ass, jeggings and red eyebrow pencil. Ocassionally  some drapy off color dark clothes with pearled buttons. Some women have nice hair, but they're never dressed for business. You just don't see the starched collar and perfect pleated pant that you do in new York. I want a couple. Just a couple, and instead of stuffing a large red dress into my bike satchel to drape on in exchange for neon Nike shoes, before starting work late yet AGAIN, fully focused on papaya and queso panela.....

I like my scrapes. I don't know if I like being a tooth, but that's what I chose here. I've made a full transformation. I'm not pretty anymore. I'm not like I used to be. I've blocked a lot of access.