Since returning from the forest, my life has been clean. My head is clear. It is good and bad.
It is good because the nightmares have stopped. In my daily life, the things I experience are real rather than a mad amalgamation of fantasy and reality. But it is bad because the truth of my life is, often, frightening. I live in a ridiculous house; I drive a ridiculous car; I wear ridiculous clothes. I cannot help but feel I am a ridiculous man--a "pretentious asshat," as one reader has called me.
Like a teenager, tonight, I am vulnerable. I walk down the street with my head hung low. The jabs of your stares sting my pitiful heart. I am swimming in a sea of vague malaise with no sight of land.
If ever I make it back, perhaps I will go to "The Gap" and buy a hooded sweatshirt and a decent pair of jeans and wear them like the rest of the world. Or perhaps I will write my memoirs and put down in words the vague philosophy that drives me--a mixture of Plato, Thoreau, and Hemingway, spotted with misconceptions and strange delusions from origins unknown.
Or perhaps I just need a good night's rest. Or some friends--the kind that money can't buy.
Let's start tomorrow after wasting away the day with music, smoke, tears, and laughter.
Friday, July 4, 2008
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3 comments:
Oh Mr Tewksbury,
I do hope a good nights sleep will cure you of this ridiculous idea!
You would be no better than the imbeciles that wear Gap hoodies and jeans if you were to throw away your so-called "ridiculousness". A "Pretentious asshat" is one of the things that you sir, are definitely not. Your mind just ticks away in a different way, I suppose.
Writing down your memoirs is a fabulous idea though, many people would be interested in them, and maybe you can outsell that vulgar Sebastian Horsley.
So please don't give your ideals up. As I've expressed before, it's such a joy to read your ramblings.
If ever we met, I'd offer you a hug and some company, if you'd allow it.
As always,
Chloe.
x
P.s. I apologise if the above words seem less than eloquent, I'm lacking sleep.
My Dearest Chloe,
I do so treasure your comments. Your advice is always sound and fills me with hope unlike the confused ramblings of my psychoanalyst. I may even go as far to say your words make me feel as though I am not so alone in this chaotic world.
Sebastian is terribly vulgar isn't he? I want nothing to do with that arrogant dickhead.
How could one turn down a hug and some company from a kindred soul? I encourage you to message me privately if you feel so bold (nigeltewksbury@gmail.com).
Yours,
NT
This World of piss and shit always seems purer on Wimbledon Sunday. If only I weren't still drunk from a 48 hour bender in Leeds.
Nigel, you rapscallion, enough of the courting - off with her blouse!
~ Reginald Hardcourt, tennis enthusiast
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