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It could have been funny if it hadn't been so sad, and if it hadn't gotten scary as quick as it did. It could have been funny if it hadn't been so bad.
How bad was it?
It was bad from the start. And it got worse in a hurry.
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I loved him. I really did. And once you start loving someone... I don't think you ever really get over it completely.
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There were times, God knows, when I could see it in her face as well. The lovers don't always live happily ever after, even when they've done what seemed right as well as they could do it. That's something else it took four years to learn. So we drifted apart. A secret needs two faces to bounce between; a secret needs to see itself in another pair of eyes. And although I did love her, all the kisses, all the endearments, all the walks arm-in-arm through blowing October leaves... none of those things could quite measure up to that magnificently simple act of tying her scarf around my arm...
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Love is the enemy. Yes. The poets continually and sometimes wilfully mistake love. Love is the old slaughterer. Love is not blind. Love is a cannibal with extremely acute vision. Love is insectile; it is always hungry.
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Engines. That’s something else about being a teenager. There are all these engines, and somehow you end up with the ignition keys to some of them and you start them up but you don’t know what the fuck they are or what they’re supposed to do. There are clues, but that’s all. The drug thing is like that, and the booze thing, and the sex thing, and sometimes other stuff too — a summer job that generates a new interest, a trip, a course in school. Engines. They give you the keys and some clues and they say, Start it up, see what it will do, and sometimes what it does is pull you along into a life that’s really good and fulfilling, and sometimes what it does is pull you right down the highway to hell and leave you all mangled and bleeding by the roadside.
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If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die.
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I know they say that a stiff dick has no conscience, but I tell you now that some cunts have teeth...
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High school kids and Republican bankers ... when you’re little you take it for granted that everything changes constantly. When you’re a grown-up, you take it for granted that things are going to change no matter how much you try to maintain the status quo (even Republican bankers know that they may not like it, but they know it). It’s only when you’re a teenager that you talk about change constantly and believe in your heart that it never really happens.
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