Ahhhh....belts and bearings. Like I actually know what I'm talking about. Take a guess. Do I strike you as a girl who's handy? Not so much. But if you hum a few bars, I could fake it. 'Cause fakin' it's what I do best.
If I could miniturize Paul Simon and carry him on my shoulder, he'd go everywhere with me. He'd sing songs appropriate to whatever's going on at the moment. "Hmmm mmm mmm smoking a cigarette.....avoiding the tedious stuff.....No need to be fair, Claire. Just listen to me....fifty ways to ruin a plaque without really trying....," and so on.
If I keep up this isolation for too much longer, I think I'll forget what human interaction feels like. Already I struggle with having a coherent conversation with that guy in my life. You know, the guy who's everything to everybody.....well...not everybody. Does separation make you bitter too? Are you as sick (and a little sad) as me?
Perhaps I'll shave my legs tonight because I like the way they feel. Or draw myself a spooky Clockwork Orange eye and dress myself in the height of fashion - tights and codpiece? Watch a movie and pretend to enjoy it? Read more subversive feminist literature and savor yet another way I can be a failure?
My X isn't talking to my Y today. Don't even ask me about the Z. He's toast.
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1 comment:
People should read this.
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