Reincarnation

When I was six I visited my biological father and he explained reincarnation to me. My first thought was that I'd come back as a coffee pot. The coffee pot was always sitting beside me at the breakfast table. I loved the distortions and reflections I saw when looking into the shiny metal percolator. I would stare into it moving my face and fingers. It was my little fun-house mirror.

Now I only think about reincarnation when I think about suicide. But as I told a friend one day, I'm convinced that if I dared to take my life, I'd probably be reincarnated as a cockroach. Not just any cockroach, a NYC cockroach! What a horrible thought. I remind myself of this on my darkest days, to make myself laugh, when a jump off the bridge almost seems appealing, rather than having to endure any more psychic pain.