(no subject)
Шел на прошлой неделе по коридору на работе, девушка по телефону говорила. Единственным предложением, которое я услышал, был ее вопрос в телефон: How am I SUPPOSED to feel about it?
Это точно.
Сейчас думал об этом написать и почему-то вспомнил этот отрывок из "The Savage Detectives" Боланьо. По-моему, я раньше его не цитировал. I met an American, from Kansas (I'm from California), the painter Catalina O'Hara, but we never hit it off. A stuck-up bitch who thought she invented the wheel and acted like she was a revolutionary just because she'd been in Chile during the coup. Anyway, I got to know her a little after she separated from her husband and all the poets were dying to fuck her. Even Belano and Ulises Lima, who were obviously asexual and secretly got it on together (you know, I'll suck you, you suck me, just for a minute and then we'll stop), seemed to be wild for the fucking cowgirl. Rafael too. But I grabbed Rafael and said: if I find out you're sleeping with that bitch I'll cut your balls off. And Rafael laughed and said but baby, why would you cut my balls off? You're the only one I love. But even his eyes (which were the best thing about Rafael, Arab eyes, tents and oases) were saying the exact opposite. I'm with you because you give me money to pay the bills. I'm with you because you put up the cash. I'm with you because right now I don't have anyone better to be with or fuck. And I said: Rafael, you bastard, you stupid prick, you son of a bitch, when your friends disappear I'll still be with you, I know it, when you're left all alone and helpless, I'm the one who'll be by your side and who'll help you. Not some old bastard festering in his memories and literary quotations. And definitely not your second-rate gurus (Arturo and Ulises? he said, they aren't my gurus, you dumb gringa, they're my friends), who the way I see it are going to vanish one of these days. Why would they vanish? he said. I don't know, I said, out of fucking embarrassment? shame? mortification? insecurity? indecision? evasiveness? spinelessness? and then I had to stop because my Spanish wasn't good enough. Then he laughed at me and said you're a witch, Barbara, go on, get back to work on Rulfo, I'm leaving now but I'll be back soon, and instead of listening to him I threw myself on the bed and started to cry. They're all going to leave you, Rafael, I shouted from the window of my room at the Hotel Los Claveles as Rafael disappeared in the crowd, except me, asshole, except me.
Это точно.
Сейчас думал об этом написать и почему-то вспомнил этот отрывок из "The Savage Detectives" Боланьо. По-моему, я раньше его не цитировал. I met an American, from Kansas (I'm from California), the painter Catalina O'Hara, but we never hit it off. A stuck-up bitch who thought she invented the wheel and acted like she was a revolutionary just because she'd been in Chile during the coup. Anyway, I got to know her a little after she separated from her husband and all the poets were dying to fuck her. Even Belano and Ulises Lima, who were obviously asexual and secretly got it on together (you know, I'll suck you, you suck me, just for a minute and then we'll stop), seemed to be wild for the fucking cowgirl. Rafael too. But I grabbed Rafael and said: if I find out you're sleeping with that bitch I'll cut your balls off. And Rafael laughed and said but baby, why would you cut my balls off? You're the only one I love. But even his eyes (which were the best thing about Rafael, Arab eyes, tents and oases) were saying the exact opposite. I'm with you because you give me money to pay the bills. I'm with you because you put up the cash. I'm with you because right now I don't have anyone better to be with or fuck. And I said: Rafael, you bastard, you stupid prick, you son of a bitch, when your friends disappear I'll still be with you, I know it, when you're left all alone and helpless, I'm the one who'll be by your side and who'll help you. Not some old bastard festering in his memories and literary quotations. And definitely not your second-rate gurus (Arturo and Ulises? he said, they aren't my gurus, you dumb gringa, they're my friends), who the way I see it are going to vanish one of these days. Why would they vanish? he said. I don't know, I said, out of fucking embarrassment? shame? mortification? insecurity? indecision? evasiveness? spinelessness? and then I had to stop because my Spanish wasn't good enough. Then he laughed at me and said you're a witch, Barbara, go on, get back to work on Rulfo, I'm leaving now but I'll be back soon, and instead of listening to him I threw myself on the bed and started to cry. They're all going to leave you, Rafael, I shouted from the window of my room at the Hotel Los Claveles as Rafael disappeared in the crowd, except me, asshole, except me.