Fiction.

A: Um, I guess I could talk about how I’ve always thought of myself as a copy of a Giacometti that went horribly wrong, like probably when I was like 3 months old and didn’t have to shit, but wanted to use my special Oskar Matzerath I just took a shit cry to fuck with my mother or just to get her attention or to really fuck with her and make her worry I was Cri du Chat despite being chromosomally sound but make her worry that the genotype had somehow gotten mixed up. Not because I’d be aware of doing those things at three months old, but so that 32 years later I’d get paranoid wondering if that’s the kind of adult I’d become, without the capability of never knowing if I was the kind of three month old who’d do that kind of shit.

Lindt: We could. Is that something you’d like to talk about, Andrew?

A: Nah, I just wanted to fuck with you. Life is that kind of cactus sometimes.

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~ by Benji on July 25, 2018.

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