Tuesday, December 07, 2004
quoth johnny truant,
"i just fixed myself some tea on the hot plate here. my stomach’s gone. I can barely keep even this honey milked-up stuff down but i need the warmth. i’m in a hotel now. my studion’s history. a lot these days is history.
i haven’t even washed the blood off yet. not all of it’s mine either. still caked around my fingers. signs of it on my shirt. “what’s happened here?” i keep asking myself. “what have i done?” what would you have done? i went straight for the guns and i loaded them. the obvious thing was to shoot something. after all, that’s what guns are designed to do--- shoot something. but who? or what? i didn’t have a clue. there were people and cars outside my hotel window. midnight people i didn’t know. midnight cars i’d never seen before. i could have shot them. i could have shot them all.
i threw up in my closet instead."
from the house of leaves, by mark z. danielewski
i haven’t even washed the blood off yet. not all of it’s mine either. still caked around my fingers. signs of it on my shirt. “what’s happened here?” i keep asking myself. “what have i done?” what would you have done? i went straight for the guns and i loaded them. the obvious thing was to shoot something. after all, that’s what guns are designed to do--- shoot something. but who? or what? i didn’t have a clue. there were people and cars outside my hotel window. midnight people i didn’t know. midnight cars i’d never seen before. i could have shot them. i could have shot them all.
i threw up in my closet instead."
from the house of leaves, by mark z. danielewski
# posted by Sweatpants Money : 12/07/2004 01:36:00 PM
