A Great Opening To A Character (AKA I Didn’t Write This At All)

She came in through the bathroom window. Hello darkness, my old friend. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. The rumors of my promiscuity have been greatly exaggerated.

Call me Ishmael. You can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk. I’m not a bum, I’m a jerk. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. I believe in America.

People are always asking me if I know Tyler Durden. One time, my cousin Walter got this cat stuck in his ass. All this happened, more or less.

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. The dream is always the same. I was 12 going on 13 the first time I saw a dead human being. After I killed them, I dropped the gun in the Thames, washed the residue off me hands in the bathroom of a Burger King, and walked home to await instructions. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Saturday, March 24th, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey. I don’t wanna be a product of my environment.

Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near? Did you know there are more people with genius IQs living in China than there are people of any kind living in the United States? What kind of fuckery is this?

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight, from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. Hello, gorgeous. Get your motor running.

Our pasta this evening is squid ravioli in a lemon grass broth with goat cheese profiteroles, and I also have an arugula Caesar salad.

The life of a playwright is tough. I always wondered why nobody did it before me. I’m pretty much fucked.

Don’t call it a comeback.


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