Barbarism


What’s doing on the Internet
April 10, 2011, 9:27 pm
Filed under: REBECCA | Tags: , , , , , , ,

According to Barb-radar:

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I continue to pursue
July 28, 2010, 3:02 pm
Filed under: SARAH | Tags: , ,

I continue to pursue alcoholism full-time and the rest of my life on a part-time basis. I’ll say this to you and you’ll laugh because you always thought I was charming. So then I’ll tell you that I’ve realized the best sex I ever have keeps happening in my mind. I’ll ask you, Am I to conclude from this that henceforth I should redirect all sexual advances due north of my genitals?

But where are my goddamn keys? Rummaging in my bag before remembering, O ho ho! Merci Monsieur Pockét! I make it through the door. I’m explaining to you that, No, he’s not dead, but people often make that mistake. I remember the night he told me he was in love with me, and I thought, Well here’s something we can share in addition to your penis; I’m in love with a woman too who’s not in love with me. Instead of that, I said, I’m in love too. His face trembled like a little boy’s and I almost cried because jesus it’s sad to be the one who sees how this will end. My lips never worked harder than they did that night, spelling out, I’m sorry for you, I’m sorry.

The next day I scrubbed the toilet, the sink, the tub and ignored the phone calls I knew I’d have to return. The ugly one—this wasn’t the role I’d wanted, but I reminded myself that how I looked in close-up shouldn’t matter so long as the long shot told the right story. Feeling forced again to play the neurotic, she who shouts, as if she doesn’t know the real reason why, You and your sweet precious penis! Enough! I quit! (Exeunt la belle dame sans merci trailed by her attendant, me.)

Of course he and I don’t speak anymore. Neither do we. But tonight I’m again thinking that maybe you and I will sit some morning like we once did on the dock’s edge with our legs dangled over the East River. (I remember you tasting like the everything bagel you just ate, so I must’ve tasted like whole wheat.) I’ll want to, but will I tell you any of the things I’ve been waiting for you to hear? I’ve never seen anyone run so fast as you ran from all my awkward words.



EXT. KOSCIUSZKO ST – 3 a.m.
July 8, 2010, 6:23 pm
Filed under: SARAH | Tags: , ,

I am alone waiting on the Manhattan-bound platform when a man appears across the tracks on the Brooklyn-bound platform. He’s outfitted with a thick shroud of fog I’m certain he’s swiped from the last scene of Casablanca. On cue, Hollywood descends like the helicopter that’s gonna rescue us from the Nazis.

ME

(My love SWELLING with the orchestra, CALLING to him across the thirty-foot and surely-not-insuperable chasm)

Marry me!

MAN

(Eyes ablaze, for we are but a moment past that scene on the sidewalk in which our conflicting destinies enforced what we had thought was our final tearful goodbye and we kissed passionately buried in the streetlamp’s haunting yellow hue

O, darling! Could it possibly be true?

ME

(Hopelessly myself)

Of course not!

I CACKLE. MAN WEEPS, then evaporates.

**

It occurs to me that my life will never be a Hollywood classic unless someone fires the screenwriter.