Heroin would make this feeling go away, but then, so would winning a billion dollar lotto jackpot, or getting on a plane bound for Marrakech, or receiving a note from the mysterious and attractive stranger whom I sat next to on a train while it was still spring: Against all odds, I have tracked you down…
What you’re looking for is distraction.
And while you’re busy being distracted, the physical spasm will run its course. And then you’ll be back to feeling sensations that are more amenable to being described in primary colors: Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. Angry. Glad.
Last night as I was driving home from the movies, I listened to a clip from an NPR interview with some expert on Middle Eastern affairs. He was talking about Saddam Hussein: Americans believe the human rights violations started in the 1990s when Saddam threw off the pacifying yoke of American influence and went rogue. That’s the narrative America wants you to believe. How absurd. He was always torturing and executing Shiites, from the moment the Americans put him in power.
And I felt this cold chill come over me.
The narrative they want you to believe…
How can you ever tell the truth from the falsified narratives?
You have the evidence of your own senses. You have witness from the small circle of people you know you can trust.
Apart from that, you have nothing.
It is all maya, miasma, and delusion.
I’d gone to see the most recent iteration of A Star Is Born because—hey!—big Lady Gaga fan here!
It wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be.
Although be warned: If you have a penis, and you like sticking that penis into female humans, you will not like this movie!
Ga-ga was actually pert-y good, particularly in the earlier scenes when she plays a bridge-and-tunnel girl with minimal makeup. She looks like someone I know, though whether that person comes from my real life or is a screen persona, I could never quite decide. I expect she’s meant to look like “someone,” and that everyone who sees the movie gets exactly this same flash.
Bradley Cooper is a very good actor and so, manages to imbue the drunken lout he plays with immense loser charisma! You want to clean up his vomit, so his big blue eyes will mist over ever so subtly, and he’ll whisper, “Thank you,” and reach up to caress your cheek.
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