dont-die-pizza

new york happens in a moment
you haven’t missed it. it’s a long one. if you’re here, you’re in it.
it’s happening to all of us, right now.

i’m here to tell you to go get your goddamn don’t-die-pizza, stat.
before you don’t survive this moment
before you miss the rest of it
before we all ‘remember’ you
before you’re a little drunk and a little hungry

then a little drunker and a little hungrier
go get your don’t-die-pizza
before you wake up at church avenue
before you’re covered in puke and need an angel to pull you off the train
before you’ve had beer for dinner and weed for dessert and your boss tells you broke your brain
your boss, your one friend who can actually directly improve your future

you know who reads you a bed time story and tucks you into bed?
you know who says ‘sweet dreams’ and gives you kiss on the top of your head?
you know who turns off the light and leaves the door cracked just a bit?

you know who takes out the trash?
you know who does the dishes?
you know who hides the weed before your parents pop in?
you know who sets the alarm and tucks you in with a plastic cup of water from the sink that tastes like metal and sounds like construction?

you know who tells you a delightful anecdotal life story on the worst day of the year?
that one that wraps you up all nice and tender and holds you close by the fire in the rocking chair?
it’s the story of one night but it steals a lifetime of heart and soul, never to return
but the story is so good that you don’t even miss your organs
because who needs a heart and soul when you’ve got a story
there’s nothing better than a story
the world, people, Humans live on stories
we die by them
we trust them, we understand them
they confuse and perplex us, they make us who we are
all this heart and mind and soul and gut, these are just characters debating the story that is you
maybe you listen
maybe you give a shit what your heart has to say
maybe you take a glance at your gut in the mirror
maybe your mind is like a bucket of ping pong balls
and your soul is the bucket holding it all together
one night you’re gonna go out
and you’ll forget your don’t-die-pizza
and you’ll spill everything all over the place and wake up under your desk with one shoe on and puke on your jeans
and you’ll have ten text messages from all these people who care if you died or not
and you’ll smile before you hurt
and you’ll realize you’ve made it
you’re in this moment
you’re a part of it
and also, you should have died
because an angel pulled you off a train and put you in a cab despite the puke on your jeans
you’ll never see her again
she might not even have been real
but of course she had to be, as real as the puke on your jeans and the half day of work you’ve already missed

Later in this moment you’ll forget that you aren’t invincible
or maybe you’ll realize how lost you really are
there’s no reason to be here but there’s no reason to be anywhere
so you stay
and you’re like
is this a quarter life crisis? am i even going to live that long? maybe it’s like a one-third-life-crisis
and once you’re between which fraction of life-identity-crisis you’re overwhelmed by, you know what i have to tell you?
go get your don’t-die-pizza you stupid SOB because you clearly need a drink and i’m worried for your health

Artichoke pizza in the lower east side
That’s where i get my don’t-die-pizza
they call it pizza but it’s more like soup
they call it pizza, but it’s more like a superhero
they call it pizza but it’s more like an nyc fiancee.
you can’t live without it, but you’re also in this fucking MOMENT
and one day you won’t be
and none of it will make sense and you’ll just be like, yeah, i dunno, new york is crazy, let’s talk about something else
this moment makes no sense but we try to figure it out
meanwhile we’re sprinting uphill and laughing about how far ahead we are and how much we’ll laugh when we get to the top
assuming there is a top and there’s oxygen up there and there’s a view that’s not blocked by clouds and we don’t need spacesuits
they call it pizza and it’ll save your life because if you’re like me you love to keep going without a pause and usually that means you’re already hungry

there’s a ton of therapy in this city, which is great
but every time i feel like i need to go talk to somebody i realize i haven’t eaten for seven hours and am physically dying.
survival is so basic yet so difficult for a wandering new yorker with zero practical skills
which is odd, because i feel like i’ve spent my whole life focused on what i thought were practical skills

in case i’ve rambled too much
here’s a bit of practical advice for all you fucking brooklynites playing the nyc game
don’t skip the don’t-die-pizza.
next time you’re going out on a sunday,
don’t skip the don’t-die-pizza
next time there’s a full moon on a saturday and the mood is electric and you feel the restless discomfort of sobriety in a crowd,
don’t skip the don’t-die-pizza
next time you pull 12 super(wo)man hungover hours out of your collapsing stomach and manage to bullshit your timesheets before finding yourself at a bar with your enabling asshole friends (who you will love forever) and who are two drinks ahead and accelerating
remember that this is a moment, a sprint, a blink, and you could seriously do with a breather, and there’s a place called Artichoke somewhere in your heart
and I just might choke up if ever i hear someone say again “girls, lets get fucked up tonight. but first, lets go get some don’t-die-pizza.”