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Because if I knew where the bottom line was, it’d be easy to avoid it, or jump over it, or do whatever you do to it.
I looked at Rontel and thought about how pretty he was. How much I loved him. How, actually no, if he died it probably wouldn’t affect me. Like, there was nothing to be taken from me that would affect me. Like, I’d trained myself to feel no harm. True sadness. Let me show you how a real man endures true sadness.
Few weeks later, she gave birth to four kittens…and one half-human/half-kitten. No. Just four kittens.
Or: “If everyone just didn’t buy gasoline for one hour—one hour—all at the same time—then the oil companies would all have to shut down and we’d own those fuckers, you could buy a company for a dollar.”
He would just make claims. Like: “You do know that every time you buy blueberries, it goes to the fucking Mormons.” Seemed so weird for him to be angry and serious about something he made up.
Or: “No, I didn’t know yogurt has the same calcium as dandelions, cool. Looks like it’s dandelions for me! Fuck yogurt!”
I was thinking something like—My life, it’s not terrible, I won’t be dramatic, but it’s something that, if offered, I’d say, “Nah,” and I’d be smiling a little but totally secure in my choice.
He got closer. Still smiling, still staring. He made me very uncomfortable. And I championed him for it. Nice work. You’re my champion. He said, “Yeah but when ew come inchoo my do’way at home, I be waiting to hit ew in duh head wit a two by fo” —still smiling, same look on his face. I laughed, didn’t say anything for a moment. Then I said, “What. Come on, what’s this mean stuff now.” He didn’t say anything. Holding his boardgames, belly hanging out. He adjusted the boardgames and I noticed how small his fingers were. Such small fingers. I forgave him for everything he ever did—even his
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Always felt like, if I could pause time, I’d just go around and break everything then un-pause time, leaving people unharmed but everything else broken, even clouds, mountains, and the sun, maybe a fish or two as well.
I did another review, for a twenty pound barbell. The review was: “So, ok. I’m a fitness FREAK! But this barbell just isn’t doing it for me. Nope, no way, Jose. I think it’s going to take a much MUCH bigger barbell to successfully smash my mother’s head in. Bottom line: Great for fitness though. Definitely feel stronger.” In the review section for a television stand, I wrote a review titled: “This is actually a review of my girlfriend’s roommate.” And the review was: “Well I went into our relationship (me and the roommate) wanting to be nice. Not friends, just nice. You can’t expect to be
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“Or maybe not, should I just throw this phone against the ground,” I said. “How about that.” “Yuh,” he said, laughing. “Jesus luh you no matter what.”
