(no subject)
Dear Sebastian,
I was just peeling some potatoes for dinner and they all looked like crisp white potatoes until I cut them in half. Every single one had a rotten, gray core. like a circle of gray reaching almost to the edge of the potato.
So I came up to my room to write to you.
You know what i feel like? I feel like the whole world is black, rotting, and evil. Even when it looks crisp on the outside, that's a lie, because you can't trust anything--on the inside it's nothing but mold.
Like that Paul Wilson--acting like a good guy so all the teachers love him.
An like my mother, she used to be an actress on this daytime soap that no one's ever heard of now, and she was kind of famous, and she thought she was heading for Hollywood.
But the show got axed, because it was crap, an she never got another acting job, and no she just gets more wrinkled every day.
And Cass's dad--I used to think when people went into remission it meant they got cured. It doesn't mean that, it means they've got the cancer to go down for a few years, but it'll come back for sure.
Today at lunchtime Em was upset because she failed a history exam. And I hate to confess this, but it just made me feel scared, like the darkness is about to envelop the all three of us. That's my greatest fear.
Because secretly I thought she's never going to get god enough grades to go to law school, even though that's her dream. And Cass is never going to be able to be a singer, like she really wants to because she'll never be able to sing in public. And i'l never ever be a writer because practically nobody gets to be a writer, and there's no way I'll ever get published, and I can't even finish the novels that I start.
So, see, nothing good is ever going to happen and anyone who says it is, is lying to you.
Love,
Lydia
dear lyd,
the world is not a dark place, okay. i'm fairly certain of that. maybe it's dark over in your mansion there, but over here, we've got north-facing windows, so we get plenty of sunshine. come over and let me show you the sun.
plus, if you came by my place, i could show you something of exquisite beauty: my video collection of the best goals in World Cup history.
i could also play you a particular Tom Waits song in my room, and you can kick back on the be there, and i'll let you know when a line of music is about to happen that'll get into your soul and cure every inch of that darkness of yours.
and i could introduce you to my little baby brother, Nathaniel, and you could take a look at those cute little toes and have a little conversation with him--"de de de," he'll say, all thoughtful. "is that so?" you can say, with interest.
if you let me do these things for you, lyd, you'll see that the world is honest, and not full of rotten potatoes at all.
love,
seb
I was just peeling some potatoes for dinner and they all looked like crisp white potatoes until I cut them in half. Every single one had a rotten, gray core. like a circle of gray reaching almost to the edge of the potato.
So I came up to my room to write to you.
You know what i feel like? I feel like the whole world is black, rotting, and evil. Even when it looks crisp on the outside, that's a lie, because you can't trust anything--on the inside it's nothing but mold.
Like that Paul Wilson--acting like a good guy so all the teachers love him.
An like my mother, she used to be an actress on this daytime soap that no one's ever heard of now, and she was kind of famous, and she thought she was heading for Hollywood.
But the show got axed, because it was crap, an she never got another acting job, and no she just gets more wrinkled every day.
And Cass's dad--I used to think when people went into remission it meant they got cured. It doesn't mean that, it means they've got the cancer to go down for a few years, but it'll come back for sure.
Today at lunchtime Em was upset because she failed a history exam. And I hate to confess this, but it just made me feel scared, like the darkness is about to envelop the all three of us. That's my greatest fear.
Because secretly I thought she's never going to get god enough grades to go to law school, even though that's her dream. And Cass is never going to be able to be a singer, like she really wants to because she'll never be able to sing in public. And i'l never ever be a writer because practically nobody gets to be a writer, and there's no way I'll ever get published, and I can't even finish the novels that I start.
So, see, nothing good is ever going to happen and anyone who says it is, is lying to you.
Love,
Lydia
dear lyd,
the world is not a dark place, okay. i'm fairly certain of that. maybe it's dark over in your mansion there, but over here, we've got north-facing windows, so we get plenty of sunshine. come over and let me show you the sun.
plus, if you came by my place, i could show you something of exquisite beauty: my video collection of the best goals in World Cup history.
i could also play you a particular Tom Waits song in my room, and you can kick back on the be there, and i'll let you know when a line of music is about to happen that'll get into your soul and cure every inch of that darkness of yours.
and i could introduce you to my little baby brother, Nathaniel, and you could take a look at those cute little toes and have a little conversation with him--"de de de," he'll say, all thoughtful. "is that so?" you can say, with interest.
if you let me do these things for you, lyd, you'll see that the world is honest, and not full of rotten potatoes at all.
love,
seb