Wednesday, May 21, 2008

FutureSexLoveShow




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Feeling emotionally fragile like a china doll. A broken dusty figurine of a man on the shelf. Boring myself with my analogies. Trying to describe a very New England pain. I'm in a yellow wallpapered bell jar. A story told a thousand times, mostly by privileged white women. Where is the book about me? I'm certainly in no condition to write it.

Watching Justin Timberlake on DVD. The FutureSexLoveShow, I believe it's called. What talent and optimism and soul. Gives me goosebumps. In slacks and white shirt and vest. Grabbing his twentysomething package, the crowd screams. There is such hope in that crotch. Such potential.

Eating Ritz crackers with feta cheese and ham for dinner now. Disgusting. Stomach issues now. Feeling hopeless.

These men on the train home from work. Different versions of Justin at different ages. In their ironed slacks. I can't help but fixate. Every day a new one. They are undoubtedly disturbed by the pained look I must give them. Wrinkling my brow, trying to understand how they got wherever they are. I want to be them. Do they ever want to be me? Certainly they are not interested in the hairstyle. This is an ongoing problem. Who do they want to be? They want money probably and sex. They want to feel safe or make others feel safe. They are hungry.

After the work day is done, I just want to sleep. I refuse the offers coming from no one- going out for a drink after work. "No, Thank You." Just sleep. And when I say sleep I mean go home and hide. And by that I mean watch a Justin Timberlake concert DVD ordered from Netflix.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

where troubles melt like lemon drops


It's much better to look at pictures if you're snooping around. A picture in a drawer or a survey of photos in frames while your host is out of the room. Quietly judging.

Today on the train a woman turned to her friend and said, "Wanna see pictures of me and Brian from this weekend?" I tried to figure out if I would have wanted to see the pictures. Not really. Its only fun if you're in the picture. Who wants to see pictures of other people having a good time? Only if you have time to really take a look at it and study the people and the story and what you think is all wrong about it, jealous you weren't there. Otherwise you're just saying, "Aww..." or "Oh my god, that is so cute."

But sometimes you do need that reference. You have to see Brian to get a good gauge of what you're dealing with. You need a face to put in the stories your friend is yammering on about. Is Brian cute or ugly, that sort of thing.

The conductor came on the PA and announced that we were being delayed for some reason. The voice sounded middle eastern. I thought back to that time right after 9/11 when it was hard not to be afraid of everything middle eastern. That weird panicked time when everything was turned upside down. Would they attack Chicago? Would they attack Crystal Lake or Downers Grove? Jumping at every little sound. Then I considered the idea of an El train hijacking and how fruitless that would be for the terrorist.

America is still suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. That's why there is so much reality TV. We are trying to sooth ourselves with Tila Tequila and Extreme Home Makeovers. Although I am a strong advocate for television whenever possible, I don't enjoy these types of shows myself. I wish I did.

Television whenever possible! Of course, yes, always. Movies and books and television and advertisements and music. Take it all in. Just watched a wonderful documentary on Toulouse-Lautrec. His wonderful advertisements are hanging in art galleries now. Don't be silly and ignore what is right in front of you. Beautiful pink El trains decorated with pictures of Madonna and Marilyn Monroe for Sunsilk.

People on the other hand-- people are harder to deal with. I prefer to deal with people after they are broken down into 1's and 0's and then lit up with electricity.