from ellen degneres' "the funny thing is..."

It's terrible when you forget what you're going to say after two words, but what's worse than that, really, is forgetting what you're going to say when you've been talking for a while. You know, like when you're at a dinner party and a whole group of people are talking, discussing some heavy subject matter, and you don't really have an opinion on it. Then suddenly you think you do, so you jump right in there to share your opinion, and you realize you've actually got a pretty good opinion to share! When your friends hear this opinion, they're going to be blown away by how smart you are. They had no idea that you were so smart, and they will be shocked and impressed that you would come up with such an interesting point of view. And you start congradulating yourself, and suddenly, since you're feeling so good and you're celebrating too soon, you completely forget the point you were going to make. And you're still talking. And they're looking at you like you don't know what you're talking about, and you don't, but you can't let them know that. So you just keep talking, praying that the point will come back to you. And not only does the point not come back, but now you've completely forgotten the subject everybody else was talking about. You really start sweating. You loosen your tie-- if you're a man or Diane Keaton or Avril Lavigne-- and then you try to jump out of it by saying any sort of generic statement that comes to mind. "Well, six of one, half dozen of the other. It's a slippery slope, my friend. Teach a man to fish. And you know, there's no 'I' in team...Is there any more Merlot?

its absolutely criminal. the way they throw the word around these days. genius. artist. everyone's an artist now. t didn't used to be that way. there was some kind of level of division. there was competition. there was me a small child and you a young man and there was love so big between us, perhaps. there was a glimmer of hope. there was a short and endless lifetime which i missed by going to highschool and getting fucked up on public beaches. there was an atanomy class taught by a gym teacher. this was a joke, i had often thought.

backwards

Backwards, he kept saying, backwards. I thought of the red-headed Australian journalist who'd used that word, and about her Italian husband and the murder in the mountains and her newly published novel cover; how they'd changed the title. You just have no say in a thing like that, she'd said, it's all backwards there. And here I am writing with a new pen. Here I am in my new handwriting, my old rooms. I'd been down in their basement, stacking t-shirts. I'd been down at the river treading water and I looked up to see the city of Richmond lurking over us. This was all Bob's idea, of course. He didn't trust the water there. I was driving back to Boston and off the highway I saw a trailer tractor on fire like a raw animal. The tree tops singed and curled under in flames. The highway was silent. The fire hoses hissed and saved no one. It all passed by clear as a photograph, real as it could manage to be. Believable. We had to crawl along on our bellies all the way to Philadelphia. When we got there it was full of christmas lights. It looked like a dream. Only later could we tell they were factories. And a man I know says "engine" like he's saying "injun". All I hear is injun, injun. Nobody saw her coming. The cats were panting hot. It drives a U-haul around town, pays for red feathers. I'm not good at these things, said Bob. I really did. And Bob, I said, we can stay in our rooms, Bob. We can read all these books. Oh, but the spine tires and the feet itch whether or not the brain moves. This is how it feels underwater; It feels like a tunnel. It looks like its green.

it takes along time sittng

Henry sometimes maybe lied or so I began to think. He sat in his corner and smoked, his eyes darting. What's the difference between these two hands? There was no difference. Maybe the girl is schizophrenic, I said, and he looked at me as if maybe I were the one. It's a horror movie, he said. I know.

epiphany

my brother came out finnish-asian. i came out finnish-black