the short and the skinny of it

my mother, of course, had wanted daughters, but i popped out anyway. there was no stopping it. i think that must have been the beggining of her dark years. and all of this is something a friend said to me one long drunk alley night and we were stumbling along, and littering the broken hinges of gates and cracked sidewalk with our primordial nature calls and cheap by the pack cigarettes from the bar. i can't remember what brand. anyway, it was a while ago but as i was driving to work this morning i was thinking about him, how much it bothered him that he had not been, from the very beggining, what they had wanted of him. then i realized how stargely comfortable i have always been with being whatever and however and how that bothers a great deal of people and maybe that's not for the best (they say no, of course, it's not for the best) but once again, i don't pay attention, and live as i so choose. i wonder if zelda really was mad or if living with old gatsby himself made her mad...

2003-08-13 | 1:08 p.m.
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