Part 3-3
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And I didnt know. They feed me and clothe me and give me booze money and educate me and all that. When I talk they listen. I just thought that if I told them they had to help me, theyd help me. I never realized there was nothing I could say, and nothing they could say, and nothing they could do.So that moment, when Mum asked me how they could help, it was sort of like the moment the guy jumped off the roof. I mean, it wasnt as horrible or as scary and no one died and we were indoors et cetera. But you know how you keep things tucked up in the back of your head in a sort of rainy day box? For example, you think, one day, if I t ha any more, then Ill top myself. One day, if Im really fug up badly, then Ill just give up and ask Mum and Dad to bail me out. Anyway, the mental rainy day box was empty now, and the joke was that there had never been anything in it all the time.
So, I did what I normally do in these situations. I told my mum to fuck off and I told my dad to fuck off and then I left, even though I was supposed to be talking to someone elses friends and family afterwards.
And then when I got up to the top of the stairs, I felt stupid, but it was too late to go back down again, so I just walked straight out the door and down Upper Street and into the Angel underground and I got on the first train that came. No one chased after me.
JJ The minute I saw Ed and Lizzie down in that basement, I felt this untrollable little flicker of hope. Like, this is it! Theyve e to rescue me! The rest of the band are setting up fig tonight, and then afterwards Lizzie and I are going back to this cute apartment that shes rented for the two of us! Thats what shes been doing all this time! Apartment hunting and decorating! And… Whos that old guy talking to Jess? Could he be a record-pany executive? Has Ed fixed us up with a new deal? No, he hasnt. The old guy is Jesss dad, and later I found out that Lizzie had a new boyfriend, someoh a house in Hampstead and his own graphic design pany.
I snapped out of it pretty quick. There was ement in their faces, or their voices, so I khat they didnt have any news for me, any grand annou about my future. I could see love there, and , and it made me feel a little teary, to tell you the truth; I hugged them for a long time so that they couldnt see me being a wuss. But theyd e to a Starbucks basement because theyd been told to e to a Starbucks basement, aher of them had any idea why.
Whats up, man? said Ed. I heard you werent doing so good.
Yeah, well, I said. Something will turn up. I wao say something about that Micawber dude in Dis, but I didnt wao get on my case even before wed talked.
Nothings gonna turn up here, he said. You gotta e home.
I didnt want to have to go into the whole y-day thing, so I ged the subject.
Look at you, I said. He was wearing like a suede jacket, which looked like it had cost a lot of money, and a pair of white corduroys, and though his hair was still long, it looked kind of healthy and glossy. He looked like one of those assholes that date the girls in Sex and the City.
I never really wao look like I used to look. I looked like that because I was broke. And we ayed anywhere with a det shower.
Lizzie smiled politely. It was hard, with the two of them there - like your first and your sed wives ing to see you in the hospital.
I never pegged you for a quitter, Ed said.
Hey, be careful what you say. This is the Quitters Club HQ.
Yeah. But from what I hear, the rest of them had good reasons. What have you got? You got nothing, man.
Yup. Thats pretty much how it feels.
That wasnt what I meant.
Anyone want a coffee? said Lizzie.
I didnt wao go.
Ill e with you, I said.
Well all go, said Ed. So we all went, and Lizzie and I kept not talking, and Ed kept talking, and it felt like the last couple years of my life, densed into a line for a latte.
For people like us, roroll is like college, said Ed after wed ordered. Were w-class guys. We doo fuck around like frat boys unless we join a band. We get a few years then the band starts to suck, and the road starts to suck, and having no money really starts to suck. So you get a job. Thats life, man.
So, the point whehing starts to suck… Thats like our college degree. raduation.
Exactly.
So whens it all going to start sug for Dylan? Or Springsteen? Probably when theyre staying in a motel that doesnt allow them to use hot water until six p.m.
It was true that on our last tour, we stayed in a motel like that in South Carolina. But I remember the show, which smoked; Ed remembers the showers, which didnt.
Anyway, I knew Springsteen. Or at least, I saw him live on the E Street reunion tour. And, Senator JJ, youre nsteen.
Thanks, pal.
Shit, JJ. What do you wao say? OK, you are Springsteen. Youre one of the most successful performers in music business history. You were on the cover of Time and Newsweek in the same week. You fill stadiums night after fug night. There. You feel better now? Jeez. Grow up, man.
Oh, what, and youre all grown up because your old man took pity on you and gave you a job hooking people up with illegal cable TV? Eds ears get red when hes about to start throwing punches.
This information is probably of no use to anyone in the world apart from me, because, for obvious reasons, he doeso form real deep attats to people hes punched, so they never learn the ear thing - they doo stick around long enough. Im probably the only one who knows when to duck.
Your ears are getting red, I said.
Fuck you.
You flew all this way to tell me that? Fuck you.
Stop it, the pair of you, said Lizzie. I couldnt say for sure, but I seem to remember that last time the three of us were together, she said the same thing.
The guy making our coffee was watg us carefully. I knew him, to say hello to, and he was OK; he was a student, aalked about music a couple times. He liked the White Stripes a lot, and Id been trying to get him to listen to Muddy Waters and the Wolf. We were freaking him out a little.
Listen, I said to Ed. I e here a lot. You wanna kick my ass, thes go outside.
Thanks, said the White Stripes guy. I mean, you know. Youd be wele if there wasnt anyone else here, because youre a regular, and we like to look after ulars. But… He gestured at the line behind us.
No, no, I uand, man, I said. Thanks.
Shall I leave your coffees on the ter here? Sure. It wont take long. He usually calms down after hes landed a good one.
Fuck you.
So we all went out on to the street. It was cold and dark a, but Eds ears were like two little torches in the gloom.
<strong>MARTIN</strong>
I hadnt seen or spoken to Penny sihe m our brush with the angel had been in the papers. I had thought fondly of her, but I hadnt really missed her, either sexually or socially. My libido was on leave of absence (and one had to be prepared for the possibility that it might opt for early retirement and never return to its place of work); my social life sisted of JJ, Maureen and Jess, which might suggest that it was as sickly as my sex drive, not least because they seemed to suffice for the time being. A when I saw Penny flirt with one of Mattys nurses, I felt untrollably angry.
This isnt a paradox, if you know anything about the perversity of human nature. (I believe I have used that line before, and as a seque is probably beginning to seem a little less authoritative and psychologically astute. ime, I shall just own up to the perversity and the insistency, and leave human nature out ?99ｌｉb?of it.) Jealousy is likely to seize a man at any time, and in any case the blond nurse was tall, and young, and tanned, and blond. There is every ce that he would have made me untrollably angry if he had been standing on his own in the basement of Starbucks, or indeed anywhere in London.
I was, irospect, almost certainly looking for an excuse to leave the bosom of my family. As suspected, I had learned very little about myself in the previous few minutes. her my ex-wifes s nor my daughters crayons had been as instructive as Jess might have wished.
Thanks, I said to Penny.
Oh, thats OK. I wasnt doing anything, and Jess seemed to think it might help.
No, I said, immediately at something of a moral disadvantage. Not thanks for that. Thanks for standing here flirting in front of me. Thanks for nothing, in other words.
This is Stephen, Penny said. Hes looking after Matty, and he didnt have ao talk to, so I came over to say hello.
Hi, said Stephen. I glared at him.
I suppose you think youre pretty great, I said.
Im sorry? he said.
Martin! said Penny.
You heard me, I said. Smug git.
I had the feeling that over in the er, where the girls were c their picture, there was another Martin - a kinder, gentler Martin - watg in appalled fasation, and I wondered briefly whether it ossible to rejoin him.
Go away, before you make an idiot of yourself, said Penny. It says a lot for Pennys generosity of spirit that she still saw idioing towards me from off in the distance, and that I still had a ce of getting out of the way; less partial observers would have argued that idiocy had already squashed me flat. It didnt matter, though, because I wasnt moving.
Its easy, being a male nurse, isnt it? Not very, said Stephen. He had made the elementary mistake of answering my question as if it had been delivered straight, without bile. I mean, its rewarding, sure, but… Long hours, poor pay, night shifts. Some of the patients are difficult. He shrugged.
Some of the patients are difficult, I said, in a stupid whiny voice. Poor pay. Night shifts. Diddums.
Sean, Stephen said to his partner. Im going to wait upstairs. This guys throwing the rattle out of the pram.
You just wait and listen to what I have to say. I did you the courtesy of listening to you banging on about what a national hero you are. Now you listen to me.
I dont think he miaying where he was for a couple of minutes.
This kind of sensationally bad behaviour elicited a great deal of fasation, I could see that, and I hope I dont seem immodest when I say that my celebrity, or what remained of it, was crucial to the success of the spectacle: usually, television personalities only behave badly in nightclubs, when surrounded by other television personalities, so my decision to cut loose when sober to a male nurse, in a Starbucks basement, was bold - possibly even groundbreaking. And it wasnt as if Stephen could really take it personally, just as he couldnt have taken it personally if Id decided to crap on his shoes. The outward maions of an inner bustion are never very directed.
I hate people like you, I said. You wheel a disabled kid around for a bit and you want a medal. And how hard is it, really? At this point, I regret to say, I took the handles of Mattys wheelchair and pushed him up and down. And it suddenly seemed like an excellent idea to put my hand on my hip while I was doing it, in order to suggest that pushing disabled people around in their wheelchairs was an effemiivity.
Look at Daddy, Mummy, one of my daughters (and Im sorry to say that I dont know whie) yelled with delight. Hes funny, ishere, I said to Penny. Hows that? Do I look more attractive to you again now? Penny was staring at me as if I were indeed crapping on Stephens shoe, a look that answered the question.
Hey, everybody, I yelled, although I had already attracted all the attention I could possibly wish for. Arent I great? Arent I great? You think this is hard, Blondie? Ill tell you whats hard, Sunny Jim. Hard is… But here I dried up. As it turned out, there were no examples of difficulty in my professional life readily to hand. And the difficulties I had experienced retly all stemmed from sleeping with an underage girl, which meant that they werent much good for elig sympathy.
Hard is when… I just needed something with which to finish the sentence. Anything would do, even something I hadnt experienced directly.
Childbirth? Tour-level chess? But nothing came.
Have you finished, mate? Stephen asked.
I rying somehow to vey in the gesture that I was too angry and disgusted to tinue. And then I took the only option apparently available to me, and followed Jess and JJ out of the door.
MAUREEN Jess was always walking out of everywhere, so I didnt mind her going too much. But when JJ walked out, and then Martin… Well, I started to feel a bit ao tell you the horuth. It seemed rude, when everyone had goo all that trouble to turn up. And Martin was so peculiar, pushing Matty up and down and asking everyone if he looked attractive. Why would ahink he looked attractive? He didnt look attractive at all. He looked mad. To be fair to JJ, hed taken his guests with him when he went - he hadhem behind in the coffee bar, the way Jess and Martin had done. But later on I found out that hed taken them all outside to have a fight with them, so it was difficult to decide whether he was being rude or not. On the one hand, he was with them, but oher hand, he was with them because he wao beat them up. I think thats probably still rude, but not as rude as the others.
The people left behind stood around for a little while, the nurses and Jesss parents and Martins friends and family, and then when we all began to realize that no one was ing baot even JJ and his friends, no one was quite sure what to do.
Is that it, do you think? said Jesss father. I mean, I dont want to… I dont wish to appear unsympathetid I know Jess took a lot of trouble anizing this. But, well… Theres no one really left, is there? Would you like us to stay, Maureen? Is there anything we usefully achieve as a unit? Because obviously, if there was… I mean, what do you think Jess was hoping for? Perhaps we help her to achieve it in absentia? I knew what Jess was hoping for. She was hoping that her mum and dad would e and make everythier, in the way mums and dads are supposed to. I used to have that dream, a long time ago, when I was first on my own with Matty, and I think its a dream that everyone has. Everyone whose life has gone badly wrong, anyway.
So I told Jesss father that I thought Jess just wanted people to uaer, and that I was sorry if that wasnt what had happened.
Its those bloody earrings, he said, and so I asked about the earrings, aold me the story.
Were they special to her? I said.
To Jen? Or to Jess? To Jen.
I dont really know, he said.
They were her favourites, said Mrs Cri. She had a strange face.
She smiled the whole time we were speaking, but it was as though shed only discovered smiling that afternoon - she didnt have the sort of face that looked as though it were very used to being cheerful. The lines she had were the sort youd get from being angry about stolen earrings, and her mouth was very thin and tight.
She came back for them, I said. I dont know why I said it, and I dont know if it was true or not. But it felt like the right thing to say. It felt true in that way.
Who did? she said. Her face looked different now. It was having to do things it wasnt used to doing, because she suddenly looked so desperate to hear what I had to say. I dont think she was used to listening properly. I liked making her faething new, and that was why I went on, partly. I felt like I was in charge of a lawnmower, cutting a path into places where the grass was rown.
Jen. If she loved her earrings, then she probably came back for them.
You know what girls of that age are like.
God, said Mr Cri. Id hought of that.
Me her. But… that makes so much sense. Because, do you remember, Chris? Thats when we lost a couple of other things, too. That was when that money went missing.
I didnt have the same feeling about the money. I could see that there might have been another explanation for that.
And I said at the time that I thought there were a couple of books gone, do you remember? And we know Jess didnt take those.
And they both laughed, then, as if they liked Jess, and liked it that shed rather jump off a tower-block than read a book.
I could see and feel why it would make a differeo them, this idea that Jen had e into the house for her earrings. It would mean that she had disappeared, goo Texas or Scotland or Notting Hill Gate, rather than that shed been killed, or shed killed herself. It meant that they could think about where she was, imagine her life now. They could wonder about whether shed had a baby that theyd never seen and might never see, ot a job that theyd never hear about. It meant that in their heads they could carry on being ordinary parents. Its what I was doing, when I bought Matty his posters and his tapes - I was being an ordinary mother in my head, just for a moment.
You could wreck it all for them in a sed, if you chose to, rip enormous great big holes iory, because what did it add up to, really?
Jen could have e back because she wao die wearing her earrings.
She might not have e back at all. And she was still gone, whether she came back for five minutes or not. Oh, but I know what you o keep yourself going. That probably sounds funny, sidering ere all there in that coffee bar in the first place. But the fact is that so far I have kept myself going, even if I had to climb the stairs to the roof of Toppers House to do it. Sometimes you just o give things a tiny little jiggle.
You just o think that perhaps someone mi<s></s>ght have helped themselves to their own earrings, and your part of the world looks like somewhere you could live in for a while.
That was Mr and Mrs Cri, though, not Jess. Jess didnt know anything about<cite></cite> the earring theory, and Jess was the one who needed her world to look different. She was the one whod been up on the roof with me. Mr and Mrs Cri had their jobs and their friends and all the rest of it, so you could say that they didnt need any stories about earrings. You could say that stories about earrings were wasted on them.
You could say all that, but it wouldrue. They he stories - you could see it in their faces. I only know one person in the world who doesnt ories to keep himself going, and that person is Matty. (And maybe even he does. I dont know what goes on in there. Keep talking to him, they say, so I do, and who knows whether he uses something I say?) And there are other ways of dying, without killing yourself. You let parts of yourself die. Jesss mother had let her face die, and I watched it e to life again.
<strong>JESS</strong>
The first train that came along was southbound, and I got off at Londe a for a walk. If youd seen me leaning on the wall and looking down at the water, youd have gone, Oh, shes thinking, but I wasnt. I mean, there were words in my head, but just because there are words in your head it doesnt mean youre thinking, just like if youve got a pocket full of pe doesnt mean youre rich. The words in my head were like, bollocks, bastard, bitch, shit, fuck, wanker, and they were spinning round in there pretty fast, too fast even for me to make a sente of them. And thats not really thought, is it?
So I watched the water for a little while, and then I went to a stall by the bridge and bought some tobacd papers and matches. Then I went back to where Id been standing and sat down to roll myself a few smokes, for something to do, sort of thing. I dont know why I dont smoke more, to be ho. I fet, I think. If someone like me fets to smoke, what ce has smoking got? Look at me. Youd bet any mohat I smoked like fuck, and I dont. New Years Resolution: smoke more. Its got to be better for you than jumping off of tower-blocks.
Anyway, so there I was, sitting down with my back against the wall, rolling up roll-ups, when I saw this lecturer from college. Hes like an old bloke, one of those art-school people whove been knog around sihe sixties. He teaches typography and that, and I went to a couple of his classes until I got bored. I dont mind him, . He doesnt have a grey pony-tail and he doesnt wear a faded denim jacket. And he never wao be our friend, which must mean that he has his own friends. You couldnt say that about some of them.
To tell this story truthfully, I should probably say that he saw me before I saw him, because when I looked up from my rolling, he was walking over to me. And to be really properly truthful, I should also say that some of the thinking I was doing, in other words the mental swearing, probably wasirely mental, if you see what I mean. It was meant to be mental, but some of it was ing out through my mouth, just because there was so much of it. It was sort of slopping out of me, as if the swearing was ing out of a tap and running into a bucket (my head), and I hadnt bothered turning the tap off evehe bucket was full.
Thats what it looked like from my point of view. From his point of view, it looked like I was sitting on the pavement rolling up fags and swearing to myself, and thats not such a good look, is it? He kind of came up to me, and then he crouched down so he was at my height, and thearted talking to me quietly. And he was like, Jess? Do you remember me?
Id only seen him like two months before, so of course I remembered him. And I went, No, and laughed, which was supposed to be a joke, but which couldnt have e across as a joke, because then he goes, still in this whispery voice, Im Wearing, and I used to teach you at art college. And I go, Yeah, yeah, and he goes, No, I am, and then I see that he thought my Yeah, yeah was like Yeah, right, but it wasnt that sort of Yeah, yeah. All I was doing with the two Yeahs was trying to tell him that Id only been joking before, but I only made it worse. I made it look like I thought he retending to be Wearing, which would be an utterly ihing to do. So the whole versation is going right off course. Its like a supermarket trolley with a wonky wheel, because all the time Im thinking, this should be easy to push along, and everything I say just takes me in the wrong dire.
And he goes, Why are you here, sitting oh? And I tell him that Id had a row with my fug mother about some earrings, and he was like, And now you t go home? And I said that I could if I wao. I could just get on the Northern Line back to Angel and then jump on a bus. But I didnt want to. And he went, Well, I dont think you should sit here. Is there anywhere you go? And then I realized that he thought I had turned into like a nutter, so I stood up quickly, which made him jump, and I gave him a mouthful and walked away.
But then I did think, as opposed to swear mentally. And the first thing I thought was that it would be very easy for me to be a nutter. Im not saying it would be a piece of piss, living that life - I dohat. I just mean that I had a lot in on with some of the people you see sitting on pavements swearing and rolling cigarettes. Some of them seemed to hate people, and I hated just about everyohey must have pissed off their friends and family, and Id pretty much dohat. And who knows whether Jens a nutter now? Maybe it runs in the genes, although with my dad being a junior Eduinister, maybe its one of those things that skips a geion.
And I didnt know where all this thinking was leading to, but I could see suddenly that I was in more trouble than I had thought. I know that sounds stupid, sidering Id thought about killing myself, but that was all just for a laugh, and if Id jumped it would have been for a laugh, too. What if I had a future on this plahough? What then? Hoeople could I piss off, and holaces could I run away from, before I found myself sitting by the river and sweariernally real? Not many more, was the answer.
So the thing to do was to go back - to Starbucks, or home, to somewhere - ahat wasnt forward. If youre walking somewhere, and you e up against a brick wall, then you have to retrace your steps.
But then I sort of found a way of climbing over the wall. Or I found a little hole in the wall I could crawl through, or whatever. I met this geezer with a really nice dog, and I went and slept with him instead.
JJ So I just stood there on the sidewalk and told Ed to take a swing at me if it would make him feel aer.
I dont want to hit you unless you hit me, he said.
There was a guy selling that homeless magazianding watg us.
Hit him, he said to me.
You shut the fuck up, said Ed.
I was only trying to get things started, said the homeless guy.
You flew across the bloody Atlantic because JJ was in trouble, Lizzie said to Ed. And now look at you. One versation and you want to punch him.
Things have to go the way they have to go, said Ed.
Is that like "A mans gotta do what a mans gotta do"? Because it sounds utterly meanio us, Im afraid, said Lizzie. She was leaning against the window of a thrift shop, making out like she was bored, but I knew she wasnt. She was angry too, but she didnt want to show it.
Hes on my side, said Ed. So it doesnt matter what it sounds like to you. He uands.
No I dont, I said. Lizzies right. Why would you e all this way to punch me? Its a Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid thing, surely? said Lizzie.
You want to sleep with each other, but you t, because youre both sht.
This really tickled the homeless guy. He laughed like a hyena. Did you ever read Pauline Kael on Butch Cassidy! God, she hated it, he said.
her Lizzie nor Ed would have had a fug clue who Pauline Kael was, but I got two or three of her colles. I used to keep them by the toilet, because theyre great for dipping into when youre on the .
Anyway, hers wasnt a name I was necessarily expeg to hear from that particular guy at that particular moment. I looked at him.
Oh, I know who Pauline Kael is, he said. I wasnt born homeless, you know.
I really, really dont want to sleep with him, said Ed. I really want to punch him. But he has to punch me first.
You see? said Lizzie. Homo-erotic, with a bit of sado-masochism thrown in. Just kiss him, and be doh it.
Kiss him, the homeless guy said to Ed. Kiss him or punch him. But lets get something going, fods sake.
Eds ears couldnt have gotten any redder, so I was w whether they might just burst into flame and then turn black. At least then I could say that Id seen something new.
Y to get me killed? I said to her.
Why dont you just get back together? said Lizzie. At least youve got all that mike-sharing and those great big electriis substitutes.
Oh, so thats why you didnt want him to be in a band, said Ed. You were jealous.
Who said I didnt want him to be in a band? Lizzie asked him.
Yeah, you got that dead wrong, Ed, I said. She wasnt that deep. She dumped me precisely because I wasnt in a band. She wasnt ied in being with me unless I became a rock star and made a shitload of money.
Is that what you think I meant? said Lizzie.
I could suddenly see my life being put back together before my eyes. It had all been a terrible misuanding, which was now about to be cleared up, with much laughter and many tears. Lizzie never wao break up with me. Ed never wao break up with me. Id e out on to the sidewalk to get my ass kicked, and instead, I was going to get everything I ever wanted.
There isnt going to be a fight, is there? said the homeless guy sadly.
Unless we all beat the shit out of you, said Ed.
Just let me hear the end of this, said the homeless guy. Dont go baside. I never get the fug ending of a story, stuck out here.
It was going to be a happy ending, I could feel it ing. And it was going to involve all four of us. The first show we played whe back together, we could dedicate a song to Homeless Guy. Hey - he could maybe even be our road manager. Plus, he could make one of the toasts at the wedding. Everyone should get back with everyone, I said, and I meant it.
This was my big closing speech. Every band that has ever e apart, every couple . . Theres too muhappiness in the world as it is, without people splitting up every ten seds.
Ed looked at me as if I had gos.
Youre not serious, said Lizzie.
Maybe Id misjudged the mood and the moment. The world wasnt ready for my big closing speech.
Naaah, I said. Well. You know. Its just… an idea I had. A theory I was w on. I hadnt ironed out all the kinks in it, yet.
Look at his face, said Homeless Guy. Oh, hes serious, all right.
How does that work with bands that grew out of other bands? said Ed.
Like, I dont know. If Nirvana got back together. That would mean the Foo Fighters had to split up. Then theyd be unhappy.
Not all of em, I pointed out.
And what about searriages? There are loads of happy searriages.
Thered have been no Clash. Cos Joe Strummer would have had to stay in his first band.
And who was your first girlfriend? Kathy Gorecki! said Ed. Ha! Youd still be with her, said Lizzie.
Yeah, well I shrugged. She was hat wouldnt have been a bad life.
But she never gave no thin up! said Ed. You never even got a hand under a bra! Im sure Id have managed by now. Wed have been together fifteen years.
Oh, man, said Ed, ione of voice that we usually used when Maureen had said somethibreaking. I t punch you.
We walked down the road a little ways ao a pub, and Ed bought me a Guinness, and Lizzie bought a paokes from the mae and put it down oable for us to share, and we just sat there, with Ed and Lizzie looking at me as if they were waiting for me to catch my breath.
I didnt realize you felt that bad, Ed said after a while.
The suicide thing - that wasnt a clue? Yeah. I knew you wao kill yourself. But I didnt know you felt so bad that you wao patch things up with Lizzie and the band. T<cite>９９lib.</cite>hats this whole different level of misery, way beyond suicide.
Lizzie tried not to laugh, and the effort produced a weird sn noise, and I took a long pull on my Guinness.
And suddenly, just for a moment, I felt good. It helped that I really love cold Guinness;<bdi>藏书网</bdi> it helped that I really love Ed and Lizzie. Or I used to love them, or kind of love them, or loved and hated them, or whatever. And maybe for the first time in the last few months, I aowledged something properly, something I knew had been hiding right down in my guts, or at the bay head - somewhere I could ig, anyway. And what I owned up to was this: I had wao kill myself not because I hated living, but because I loved it. And the truth of the matter is, I think, that a lot of people who think about killing themselves feel the same way - I think thats how Maureen and Jess and Martihey love life, but its all fucked up for them, and thats why I met them, and thats why were all still around. We were up on the roof because we couldnt find a way bato life, and being shut out of it like that… It just fug destroys you, man.
So its like an act of despair, not an act of nihilism. Its a mercy killing, not a murder. I dont know why it suddenly got to me. Maybe because I was in a pub with people I loved, drinking a Guinness, and I know I said this before, but I fug love Guinness, like I love pretty much all alcohol - love it as it should be loved, as one of the glories of Gods creation. And wed had this stupid se oreet, and even that was kind of cool, because sometimes its moments like that, real plicated moments, abs moments, that make you realize that even hard times have things ihat make you feel alive. And then theres musid girls, and drugs, and homeless people whove read Pauline Kael, and wah-edals, and English potato chip flavours, and I havent even read Martin Chuzzlewit yet, and… Theres plenty out there.
And I dont know what differe made, this sudden flash.
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