“You blog,” you say, and you laugh.
I have nothing to say to that but I wonder if I must say something anyway, in my defense. And I stop. Defense? How am I to explain to you the need to say something, the need to fill a void? How am I to break down for you the feeling of needing to fill the void with something, something that is undeniably, unflinchingly me, and settling for a couple of words finally. How am I to tell you, you who I hardly know for what are probably very sound reasons, how am I to tell you how I feel?
And so I stop a second time. Feel? For someone who was once accused, again for very sound reasons, of being an inhuman automaton, this must be a moment of celebration – to be indicted for feeling strongly enough to unfurl banners from rooftops and open oneself to ridicule, what greater humanity need I aspire to anymore?
But none of us are fools and its been a while since any of us were young, and the questions don’t go away; why exactly do you laugh?
Is it because I will never be you, or you me?
Or is it because I don’t let you absolve me of this sin, first?
Tot up the figures, keep track of the blacks and the reds, mind the zeros and the decimal points, watch every column, crunch the numbers and there’s your answer to the question of what you’re worth.
Two f***ing wheels.