May 17 2008
Iugum escatologicum
‘You’re full of shit’, she says, as I struggle to understand where the trigger was in my last phrase. Google talk keeps warning me the party at the other end of the screen is typing, then deleting text. What is she controlling? Probably, the only thing she has been able to control in her life: words. It is now that I think I should be in awe of people with a talent to do that. I may have been drawn to literature myself because words failed me…or found me. Whatever, this is a crazy story. Here I am, explaining myself to someone I scarcely know as if I really had to apologize for any behavioral mishap. Why are we doing this? Perhaps because we met without really meeting, we touched without really feeling, and we dropped in that cesspool of human confusion that connected us with no direction. At least I thought I knew we were not going anywhere, but I got sidetracked from anywhere when I heard my copilot saying that she knew. Perhaps that’s my problem. I listen.
