I Leave It Up to You

by Jinwoo Chong

Hey, look over there, it’s Jack Jr. just fucking around minding his own business and being an exemplary citizen and shit.

I felt small. The universe, as it turned out, was a lot bigger than I’d been led to believe thus far, and it was stressing me out.

Thinking coherent thoughts felt a little like trying to juggle a pack of angry puppies that didn’t want to be anywhere near me,

And just as I decided to lift my head up or try to get someone’s attention for some food or water, it was gone, quickly, the little asshole in my skull decided I’d had enough surface time and slammed me dark once again.

Actually, I guess they all meant “shut the fuck up” in the most motherly way that she, in all her wrath—and there was wrath—could muster in places of public attention. I shut the fuck up.

was not technically clear to drive, I reminded myself, on my doctor’s orders, but no mention had been made of a criminal offense when the question had been asked.

“Guilt is a very important and healthy part of society. All mothers know this.” “I know all mothers know this,” I said. “They’re the reason it’s true.”

If James would only see that one’s own family is the greatest gift of all, that to be with one’s family is the only reason a person should be able to give as to why any of this life is worth living.

It was a beautiful, lucky place to be, to know someone as well as you possibly could, to know what to do to make them better. And for now, in the universe of things we had left to say, this would have to be enough.

Family is give and take: When you’re born, you take, and when you get older, you give, more and more, to everybody that gave to you. To them.”

Time was such a stupid fucking scam. I had wasted so much of it. There wasn’t enough anymore to tell myself that I’d done it well, any of it.