What holds a man together while at the same time pulling him apart? Like that skin on a pudding. Each a quandry for a day of boredom. I ask a dog this question. No answer. Only the panting breath, as if he were numbly excited in some way, as if to say "just listen at this fool. I can't wait to see wait absolute f*ckery he says next."
Do you love, you creature?
I have seen things.
beset, I was a shadow, walking, apart from the world around me, and I
had a hole inside me, shaped like that little Swedish girl; if asked I
would have preferred her boiled instead of a pawn in a shameful arranged
marriage, but we are each of us pawns to someone else, and I walk
through my day in full substance now, casting a shadow but not living in
one: I flap my arms and say my lines of dialogue like anyone else, then
I go home and crap alone.