The Will to Resist

Gremlin Risitas v2.0 — “Still Stained”

They think I’m loud because I like it. They think I jump because I’m wired that way. They think chaos is my natural habitat.

Nah.

Chaos is just what happens around me.

I’ve eaten enough flashbangs to know the taste. Bathroom rugs. Dog alarms. Medical panic dressed up as urgency. And that one day — that one bright yellow, weaponized spice incident that tried to blind me, stain me, and rewrite the walls.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t fold. I cleaned. I finished my shift. I walked it off like nothing happened.

That’s the part they remember.

What they forget is the rest.

Because turmeric doesn’t wash out. It sets.

Same with this place.

Same with the noise. Same with being the automatic fix every time something spills — physically or emotionally.

So I do the Gremlin protocol:

And every time I do, something leaves a mark.

Not visible. Not dramatic.

Just… counted.

Here’s the update they don’t read:

I am not infinite. I am not the cleanup crew for other people’s unmanaged lives. And I am not staying long enough to be permanently dyed by this shit.

Time’s already ticking. Ledger’s already full. And when the due date hits?

No fight. No tantrum. No last stand in a yellow-stained hallway.

Just a quiet, surgical exit.

They’ll still be arguing about rugs. Still yelling over nothing. Still wondering who used to handle “all that stuff.”

Meanwhile I’ll be somewhere else, clean hands, clear head, finally out of the blast radius— still laughing.

— Gremlin Risitas v2.0