I have become my parents. They ask me questions and want help and in that shift of how and which remote and can you build me a website, they stop being my parents with certainty and answers like what is a lever for or why the sky is blue and I stop being them too for as soon as I type I become them, all three of us become lost, people who need to make sense of a world that doesn’t make sense even with blue skies, and that still turns and shakes from time to time without recognition for the people above and below, until done day it shakes us, like now, when my father asks me during a day when the sky has turned gray: how do you know that someone still loves you and you say you know with certainty that things will be alright with that person and he says what if they don’t feel alright and you say that’s alright some of the times and he says when is it not and you say when it doesn’t feel alright and he says how can you be sure either way and you say you can’t, which is alright too and he says I’ve said too much and you say it’s okay, tata, I love you and he says alright and the night comes until it doesn’t with a blinding rush of day, a day where things must be thinged until they are a thing no more and then night comes again. It is equally blinding, but there are other things to do for the sky is still blue and there is a reason as to why. It used to be because of my parent’s answers. Now it is because I look up.
I strain my neck. There is no sky today. Clouds suffocate on more clouds.