Hey self
remember that time
you took home leftover lahmajoun
but didn’t want it to smell up your room
so you put it in the second floor kitchen fridge
and then forgot about it completely
and laughed your head off about it later?
Hey self
remember that time you had a second dinner with a couple classmates
because you were so lonely
and there was falafal in the caf that night
and you mentioned the Armenian place on Park
and your one classmate
who was from Azerbaijan
who believed the Genocide was in fact not a genocide at all
exclaimed that Shiraz which is the restaurant’s namesake isn’t even in Armenia
as if this proved that there was indeed no Genocide at all because Armenians don’t know which cities are in Armenia and which cities are not
and all you could say was who cares when the food is so good
and you went home that night so angry with yourself
and with Vahid who was the boy from Azerbaijan
and with your classmates who sided with him with their by-standing because he was funny and foreign and interesting
but mostly you were angry at yourself
because you let down Professor Akçam to whom you had not had the guts to introduce yourself yet
and your family
and Malkhas
and your great grandmother
whose earliest memory was of bodies stacked one on top of the other Lincoln Logs style on a train platform
and every single person of Armenian descent on Planet Earth
but mostly
just
yourself?
I am so excited to be drawing the one and only El Delicioso Hot Dog Express you have no idea.
No idea.
Also WOAH check out those lines I’ve got a steady hand!*
*A lie.
