I hate you Douglas Coupland. I hate how you manage to spring your books on me when they're relevant to my life at that very moment. Yeah, you suck.
I hate you fate. I hate the way you put me in positions where both my heart and my head aches. Where a decision must be made and either one will have at least one bad ending. Yeah, you suck.
Some background to the following passage:
Anna-Louise = main character's long-term "home-perfect" girlfriend.
Stephanie = main character's hot fancy girl from a summer of fun in France.
Mark = main character's brother.
Jasmine = main character's mother.
" Ive deflected her suspicions. Anna-Louise will think all of my strange behaviour of late owes entirely to an educational crisis as opposed to a crisis of the heart if that is indeed what my problem is.
God. I feel like such a total cad, a real shit. I know full well Id rather simply be wearing nothing but my socks and lying across Stephanies smooth white legs being fed little green grapes, like a carp being fed in a pond by a geishas hand, all the while having Stephanie rub my stomach and sing out-of-key mistranslated rock and roll songs into my eyes. What a pig.
I feel I am forgetting how I felt when I was younger. I have to remind myself that forgetting something behind you is not quite the same as throwing it away.
The night is cold and the stars are twinkling and I wonder what is protecting our world from outer space. I wonder what permits us to keep our air, what keeps our oxygen and nitrogen and argon from being exhaled away forever into heaven. Our world seems so small so cold against the everythingness. I look at the bare trees and feel myself losing my ability to imagine warmer places, tropical climates. Perhaps underneath this cold crust of rock there lies hidden a different world, one where pink flowers rot and stink and exude perfume all at once a world where heat is so generous and pervasive that the cycles of life and death become confused and overlap, depositing fruits and leaves and carcasses on the ground with such speed that the soil cannot remain solid, instead forever flexing languidly like the muscle of a sleeping athlete.
My world is moving too fast once again
Once home I enter the front door, but the temperature in the house is low
Mark is in a sleeping bag watching TV, where a documentary tells how scientists have discovered a new planet. The announcers voice speaks, saying the universe is unforgiving and cold, and I dont want to believe this.
The screen door slams behind me and I am out in the backyard and I can feel myself becoming messed up, my eyes misting and I jump up and down, making little baby jumps, then I pull my basketball jacket around me tighter, trying to shake the fear.
I see Jasmines compost box out back near the raspberry vines her device for generating soil with its fermenting gluey layers of rotting bouquets, half eaten meals, and bird gifts from Kittykat. I walk over and kneel down before the compost, sweeping away the top layer of grass clippings, the seasons last, and sigh as I stick my hands deep into the hot, living breathing pulp up to my elbows, staining my jacket all to feel the heat generated by the planet by Earth. "
Taken from Shampoo Planet by Douglas Coupland.
Three people I'd like to meet and just sit and have a coffee with:
Douglas Coupland
Mark Oliver Everett
Fate
Which way would you go? Left or Right?
:cherry:
P.S No-one's found me those damn red trousers yet
P.P.S Fate, dont you know its totally shitty to put a manic-depressive in these situations?
I hate you fate. I hate the way you put me in positions where both my heart and my head aches. Where a decision must be made and either one will have at least one bad ending. Yeah, you suck.
Some background to the following passage:
Anna-Louise = main character's long-term "home-perfect" girlfriend.
Stephanie = main character's hot fancy girl from a summer of fun in France.
Mark = main character's brother.
Jasmine = main character's mother.
" Ive deflected her suspicions. Anna-Louise will think all of my strange behaviour of late owes entirely to an educational crisis as opposed to a crisis of the heart if that is indeed what my problem is.
God. I feel like such a total cad, a real shit. I know full well Id rather simply be wearing nothing but my socks and lying across Stephanies smooth white legs being fed little green grapes, like a carp being fed in a pond by a geishas hand, all the while having Stephanie rub my stomach and sing out-of-key mistranslated rock and roll songs into my eyes. What a pig.
I feel I am forgetting how I felt when I was younger. I have to remind myself that forgetting something behind you is not quite the same as throwing it away.
The night is cold and the stars are twinkling and I wonder what is protecting our world from outer space. I wonder what permits us to keep our air, what keeps our oxygen and nitrogen and argon from being exhaled away forever into heaven. Our world seems so small so cold against the everythingness. I look at the bare trees and feel myself losing my ability to imagine warmer places, tropical climates. Perhaps underneath this cold crust of rock there lies hidden a different world, one where pink flowers rot and stink and exude perfume all at once a world where heat is so generous and pervasive that the cycles of life and death become confused and overlap, depositing fruits and leaves and carcasses on the ground with such speed that the soil cannot remain solid, instead forever flexing languidly like the muscle of a sleeping athlete.
My world is moving too fast once again
Once home I enter the front door, but the temperature in the house is low
Mark is in a sleeping bag watching TV, where a documentary tells how scientists have discovered a new planet. The announcers voice speaks, saying the universe is unforgiving and cold, and I dont want to believe this.
The screen door slams behind me and I am out in the backyard and I can feel myself becoming messed up, my eyes misting and I jump up and down, making little baby jumps, then I pull my basketball jacket around me tighter, trying to shake the fear.
I see Jasmines compost box out back near the raspberry vines her device for generating soil with its fermenting gluey layers of rotting bouquets, half eaten meals, and bird gifts from Kittykat. I walk over and kneel down before the compost, sweeping away the top layer of grass clippings, the seasons last, and sigh as I stick my hands deep into the hot, living breathing pulp up to my elbows, staining my jacket all to feel the heat generated by the planet by Earth. "
Taken from Shampoo Planet by Douglas Coupland.
Three people I'd like to meet and just sit and have a coffee with:
Douglas Coupland
Mark Oliver Everett
Fate
Which way would you go? Left or Right?
:cherry:
P.S No-one's found me those damn red trousers yet
P.P.S Fate, dont you know its totally shitty to put a manic-depressive in these situations?
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
helter:
When facing the choice of whether to go left or right, most people will choose to follow their dominant hand every time, all the while thinking that they are choosing randomly.
velvetkither:
you were born one day before i was.....that must have been the week of cool....