“Fizzy Soda” was born through a horrendous attempt at describing the way my brain sheltered itself from recent slumps of depression, graduate school, social media, and the eruption of my quarter-life crisis. There was (is) so much changing that I couldn’t help but feel ten steps behind everyone around me. My brain was coated in a thick layer of protective gunk and the only way to remove it is to submerge the organ in green fizzy soda.

The imagery of uprooted wisdom teeth soaking in Diet Coke, enamel disintegrating into carbonated bubbles, projected behind my eyelids.

My brain itched from built-up plaque and debris. If the fizzy soda didn’t work, I’d blow into the pink folds like an old Nintendo D.S. cartridge.