Years ago I read a bit of graffiti scrawled on a desk. It said, “THE UNIVERSE IS CONSPIRING IN YOUR FAVOR.” Those words have stuck with me. I’ve written them in bathroom stalls to keep them in circulation. They’re good words to carry around. They’re my mantra in the face of uncertainty.
Last night I got fake married by a robot at The 24-hour Church of Elvis. The ceremony cost a quarter. We exchanged the same plastic Green Lantern rings we’ve had forever. Then we received a Spinning Elvis Benediction. Lights flashed and the drawling mechanical voice pronounced us “robot and snuggles”.
It’s been a year since I met my fellow nighthawk. Since then we’ve been chasing after bits of neon and building barricades against the Portland rain and the cold.
This time next year, I won’t be here. I don’t know where I’ll be. Maybe Texas, maybe rural New England. But I know I’ll have someone to make me coffee in the morning and read me comic books in bed. That knowledge de-fangs the future.
Someone once told me that everything would be okay. They were right.