(no subject)
"Remember: I love you. I’m the only one in the world that does. You can’t trust anybody else. Okay? Not even your own fucking mother.”
But she says this while she’s high. Really, really, high. Too high, you could say, because it’s exactly what the paramedics said before strapping her into a gurney and delivering her here to the 7th floor mental ward of St. Joseph’s Health Centre. Out on the porch of a vacant house, they gave her a look over and said, to paraphrase, “You, sweetheart, are too high to be left here. You are in fact so tremendously too high that we will baby talk you in order to keep you calm, and then suddenly strap your limbs into this gurney and take you to a tremendously old hospital on the west end of the city that was once a fort that protected our city at the shore. There are concrete walls that have been reinforced many times over and are inescapable - although you wouldn’t even make it past the Filipino night-shift nurse, anyway - and so that is how too high you are, that we’re bringing you to a tremendously terrible place such as this.”
I don’t believe her, but I choose to believe her, because that’s what you do when you’re in love with a girl who never loved you back: you force yourself to believe the things she says when she’s too high, you distort reality to what you need it to be. After weeks of methodically plotting the impossible - how am I going to get her to love me? - she just handed it to me on a fucking platter. Of course I’m going to believe it.
“And remember: this Tuesday, October 14th, Tom Cruise is going to destroy the planet.”
I choose to believe this, too, for the same reasons as the I Love You thing. I can’t be a hypocrite; if I want to believe the good, I have to also believe the bad, and, more apt, any other inane monkey shit that spills from her mouth. Although I see the flawed logic behind this, and that when a girl says, “I love you,” followed by a doomsday premonition involving a short celebrity with a perfectly symmetrical face and a creepy director who isn’t dead yet, the odds are good that the latter half of the speech effectively voids the former.
Oh, right. “I know this because the ghost of Tim Burton told me so,” she continues.
But, like when you watch a movie or play a video game, you suspend reality and embed yourself into the storyline. Otherwise, life really is just about molecules arbitrarily bumping into each other. Meaningless, until you add the meaning yourself. So I believe it all, because I’m really not doing anything interesting for the rest of the week.