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Notebook Neurosis |
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1. Turning to him she said, her voice weak and feeble
as a child’s “Please open the doors, sir.” He shook his head, looking down at her, her
beautiful blue eyes so much clearer than they had been before, “But you
cannot leave…” “Sir,” she said, her face sinking a little, “Please,
I must do this.” He sighed, she had that sorrowful determined beauty
as always and he could hardly refuse her. “You know what you are doing, don’t
you?” She nodded, in her sad way, that hid just how she
truly felt, she put a hand on his cheek and said softly, “I will see you
again, in another life, another world, but until then, goodbye.” And slowly,
he pushed the doors open, and she walked from her life, without turning back.
She sat on the brim of a hill over looking the town
for sometime afterwards and waited for the sun to rise and put an end to all
of this. And as she stared blankly down at the town below, she felt burning
on her back and she turned to the light of the sun as it rose there. Her body crumbled in the heat and soon she was only
dust. Her
whole life, gone into dust and memories in the blazing sun. 2. I feel the need to reach out and touch
you, to make you notice me but I’m afraid of the softness of human skin, just
touching it means too many things so now the touch scares me. The softness
and elegance of human kindness the gleam of feeling in your eyes. Say
something, speak with that voice that tastes of the place you were born, the
slant of the vowels that is so captivating. I called you just to listen to
your voice on the answer machine. 3. A girl walking with her friends, she has
those pretty blue, shiny eyes and black corduroy jeans. She wears school
uniform, press-perfect, pristine. They talk happy amongst each other.
Careless. Cut: The
same girl, a little older, different kinds of friends look around a museum
with her, Egyptology, it’s all just a joke to her. The school makes them go
to these things even if they don’t have permission slips. Her uniform isn’t
so smart now, a little tattered, bits of another shirt stick out of the
sides. Not quite so innocent looking now. Cut: They’re sitting on a hill,
she’s watching people intently, she’s with the school but shows no sign of
it. She stares at the people and even though the people from the school try
to call her over and take her somewhere else she continues to watch a group of
totally strangers, sitting on a bench
in front of her. They ask her why she watches them and she replies, “They’re
fucking interesting, that dude loves her, but he wont doing anything ‘cause
the other guy’s her father. I think she likes him too, they’ve probably
fucked.” Cut: Back when she’s walking with
her friends in her perfect uniform they ask her what she wants to do, “I want
to write, I want to inspire.” Cut: And in the museum, she’s scruffy but
expectable they’re looking at paintings and one of her friends ask, what a
painting’s about. The painting shows, a sort of 1940’s couple, leaning on a
railing at the docks, romantic but discrete. “She thinks she loves him,” she
begins, “but she’s just young and doesn’t know what love is. He’s a player,
he’ll have her virginity and never do the decent thing and marry her, he’s
older than her, marginally, but he’s done all this before.” Her friends
barely blink. She’s like that. Cut: She eighteen years old, she’s fucking her
boyfriend behind some trashy building, in her old school uniform, like she
thinks it’s ironic. Where did she go wrong? 4. We sat inside, restricted by security guards on the night of the end of the world. As if cowering in an air raid shelter, our band, celebrities, the only ones to be saved as the fans sat vulnerably in the vast stadium, we stayed back stage sheltered from the end until it happened. I at least wanted to lose my theoretical in-band virginity before the end happened. You could say that I was selfish. Before the end I |