Without any problems, we were
running out of ways to spend the day.
We’re opposed to commercialism on principle, perhaps because we are
cheap, so recreational shopping is out. Mostly
I spend my money on food but I’m saturated with fresh things from the farmers
market nagging me about wilting. And
we’ve already had breakfast, and lunch when there was nothing to do next, so
buying more now would be no short of a sin.
(We are also objectively opposed to gluttony.) I used to be a painter – everyone was impressed
– you just learned how to do that? And yeah, it was pretty spectacular in its
fumbling quaintness. But it never
progressed and I went to too many art galleries and watched too many life
drawing classes naked from the middle to remain convinced for long that quaint
little art was anything rare to come by.
I was a writer for a long time since I only did it in little bits at a
time but that too chipped away reading Gertrude Stein in little bits at a time. She’s written everything already, her and others,
and furthermore reading them is all I’ve got to do to learn the past, present,
and future of anyone including myself finally answering the question what
happens to girls like me with their personalities fractalizing in on themselves. The future of others is the easy to imagine
since they are concepts, but I am myself so more enigmatic. Those books practically made the whole
process of living redundant, being all that’s left is to do it, so reading was
out too.
Can’t you do art for the sake of
doing it said my boyfriend, write to learn about yourself, for amusement. Sure I could I told him but don’t you think
that is a little self-indulgent in times like these after all. Maybe you are right, he said. He likes to read nonfiction books to amass
large amounts of knowledge but he feels guilty for doing it a little bit,
because he is not a reference librarian, just a pianist.
We might give ourselves to a higher
power but don’t believe in one. We do
not believe in the inherent good of humanity.
Definitely not and definitely not as an operating principle of classical
capitalism since people acting in their own rationalized self-interest do
things like eat a dozen doughnuts and what good is laissez-faire then, the hand
putting the stint in your aorta looks pretty visible to me. God we were awfully bitter in those days with
no particular reason, subsisting down there in the labor class. Outrageously
outraged. Against ugly people especially
(who we could abide until they did something wrong, like show up late for a
lecture, or eat a candy bar with a crinkly wrapper, then god help them). We
bemoaned how specialization creates interdependence/neediness and class
conflict, and how higher education was otherwise a liability – we do not
believe we are terribly interesting.
I was the first one to suggest a
lobotomy. Look how stifling metalife is
I said. Hold on he said I am too cold to
have this conversation. Let me grab a
cardigan and check facebook. Okay I
said. While he was gone I practiced
mindfulness and one-pointedness of mind.
Okay he said I just thought about it and I think I should go first. Not both of us? I said and he said, what if something goes
wrong? At least you have read a memoir about it, I have only seen One Flew Over
the Cuckoo’s nest and I don’t want to be the one taking care of a drooling
dunderhead. You can get me a job
scraping lunch trays and then it’s your turn, and we will take care of each
other. Okay I say, sounds like the
procedure for the afternoon.
