“Take me with you.” She said, her hair had been pulled out into a frazzle. I thought she must have been agonizing over this.
I thought to myself, “Fuck. Another one.”
Since I embarked on this endless road trip I have encountered countless individuals that have begged for a chance to escape. For a while it kept me going. Kept me high on my life. Every once in a while I’d take one, if she was female, for a bit; assuming she was cute and could carry on some conversation. I don't do crazy, I don’t do married, and I certainly don’t do crazy and married.
She stood there below me, awaiting an answer, the door ajar, the moment was growing too long, I hadn’t prepared myself for this.
“You can not come with me.” I said, feigning strength of character.
“I need to.” She pleaded.
A silence passed between us; our eyes locked on eachother’s.
...It just came out;
“You have got to be kidding me." I dryly let escape. "You have a fucking incredible life. You live in the middle of who knows where and have the most stable husband, a man that sternly and... Charlemagnely looks over your home. You shot a fucking bear cub the other day. The trees here practically sing about you."
"I am completely lost," I rolled on. "You are completely found. I am not going off to find some truth. I’m going off to make a point! And...” I said, “AND... no one is going to ever give a... fucking dime to pay to care about this shit. And do yo know why? Because no fucking anyone cares about anything any fucking more.”
I was losing it. Can you tell?
“Except for people like you! You need to get away from everyone else. Well guess what? I just realized that I'm getting away from everyone else so I can write about it in my blog!. A fucking blog. Do you know how many people have those these days? HA! I love bragging about how I’m going to be a blogger and tell this amazing story about how I lived in a fucking trailer. A fucking trailer. You know who makes the main character list? No? ...of course you don’t because it’s fucking me! Oh and you'll be there!" I actually said this, "You'll be there in at least one of them. That's right, crazy lady, you'll be there on my blog. You know who is going to love this fucking blog???? You fucking people!!!”
“Anyone who has known me long enough to know I have a blog about the people I meet. You people, that live to find reasons to trick yourself into wanting to be proud of your deep seated need to escape the awful easiness of you and your bear-cub-shooting lives.”
I know I was just insane at this point but at the time, in my mind, I was simply telling her that she was crazy and I was scared of her. And in the heat of my state I momentarily realized that I was making sense. Suddenly I was so into this idea I didn’t realized that she was walking away and sobbing.
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Yeah, I know it's kinda what I wanted to write. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel different about that.
ReplyDeleteWhat does that mean, 'it's kinda what I wanted to write'? I think it's awesome. I've been thinking a lot these days about how un-contemporary I am. How I would have never survived modernism because I would have been thinking that Poverty is a theme unbecoming an artist. Your timing is hilarious: today is the first day at work in years when I didn't read a single blog. I configured my Chrome browser and my desktop so I wouldn't be tempted. Resolve. No browsing. So it was that I didn't even see you had posted until I got home from work. I love making him here and now. This is hilarious and true. "Fuck. Another one."
ReplyDeleteHa!
This guy I can see in France.
Then it's settled: no more apologies for posts. I only was unsure because at the time I posted this, not necessarily the time I wrote it, I was high as a pear on bananas. Obviously self questioning ensued. I was feeling, I think, very similarly to the way you felt with your last entry; it had been too long and something needed to be done. If this is the way the blog is going to go I am all for it. Force it on me and I may take a while, but I will continue to write. I'm very happy you suggested a project in the first place. I'll be in Tucson sometime around Memorial Day and I want to buy you a beer.
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