Bad News from Aruba
Bad News from Aruba
What happens in Aruba? That’s where people go on vacation. This is Carolyn’s airing out of nasty and unmentionable feelings, in a manner entirely natural to her but which, if communicated to those loved ones of hers to whom it is directed, would be received odorous and incomprehensible. Imagine young Carolyn 5am fast in bed, mind still reeling in the wake of a friend breakup following another night of decadence and degeneracy in Dimes.
You know how sometimes you’re cool and sometimes you’re a piece of shit?
God, dawn’s so hot. I wish I could slap it in the face with this salami. And I’m sorry I can’t be Los Angeles pretty for you but I do good work and I get down to the details so let’s not drum up these Paul-level feelings and just get us on the next plane to paradise how about?
It’s just not an activity I expected to be doing at twelve noon. No need to sauce up my feed just ‘cause your rutabaga went thirsty. And anyway it’s not your expectitude that bothers me. It’s this enduring legacy of not-quite-good-enough that’s so ever-lurking final...
Though there may be a lingering sense of We due to the two years spent flailing together in the post-womby anything, I’m now through soothing you and your frankly enviable problems.
And I know what you used to promise yourself. That you too might be chic and peachy despite the human obsession painted over in lithium. Despite the actions of those who allow and enable your privilege. Despite their sly visitations somewhere out over the starline while you drink your glass of milk and wonder. Well, it’s not just your voice that’s been stifled. Rising to pour the milk down the front of your shirt. Clenching the earth with your fingers and toes, lowing in feigned reverence before a private screening of the moon.
Soon all mouths will powder. These fine young men and women of the jury have allowed maximum incest after quiet deliberation. Get in line if you want to have your picture taken and there will be wine and refreshments in the beverage hall and all my little darlings in the South China Sea.
That’s a threat and I’m being real with you. At this time if it’s not feet on the ground forward-ho then you’re exactly who you privately despise in your seldom-studied inner multilogue.
Lest we forget your exceptional inclination to petulance and emotional blackmail of your endlessly patient, sensitive, and loving benefactors. Do let me know when you’ve established the proper boundaries between you and that snorting id you summon blindly, steadfastly assured of the sweeping charm and “That’s-our-Marley!” warmth and camaraderie you inspire with your ket peddling and party trick clownery in the wee hours.
Perhaps a change is in order. Do you need help carrying bags to your hotel room? By all means get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a very long time. And I hope I’m not plumbing too coyly the depths of your pissant self-hatred. Or indulging too eagerly that plain old freewheeling narcissism of yours. Which is disgusting, by the way, to literally all our formerly relevant mutuals. And I can hear you like whining what about my durr *holding my nose* steady-accumulated sense of achievement in the face of all this fabricated adversity? Doesn’t this glorified self-narrative count for anything? And like wow if that’s not what the pig muttered in its sleep…
Mayday, clitoris. I’m going in for the kill. I don’t need to schlep a suitcase out to the ends of the earth to know I’m valued. Anyway so hey did your lame frat get bought out by some bullshit corporation? Or are you just caught peddling in the wrong direction on Business Ave. once again? And what happened to your family and the tight ship they run? Run out perhaps by fraud-level status perks and nice tranquil displays of job? That’s a hefty fine to pay for something so allegedly special these days. Did you earn your biscuit? Enjoy that shit bro I’m in this for the long y’all. Though I’m currently furious with shaking and my erstwhile commitment to Jesus Christ just looped around a full return on the elliptical arc of my fated lifeline.
I solemnly pledge to prattle on evasively for hours without even a chance of something making a wrong turn in the true direction. And I guess that’s what hospitals are for. I was as white and clean as you’d expect in a long fluorescent sterile narrow passage. And got so spaced out from self-doubt there on the linoleum couch that I passed out and made a dream-state pouty face. Thanks for the car, I loved it. Let’s just be friends. Um calm down do you realize what a hospital even is? Go fuck yourself. I inherited enough feelings for a few sound lifetimes and not that you had shit to do with it. And you’re fucking fake. God I am so out of here I can’t even disguise myself.
Oh wow did you succumb to Reading? That’s how my day played out but I’m sneaky illiterate and before you even ask that’s the opposite of questionable. Legit. And yeah. I found out. Your marriage is on the who-pouted-first uptick and I’m slathering lip balm just to stay ahead of the curve. Did you get fucked up while I was away? I’ve never felt more bored and my capacity for enduring slapstick just reached its shitty plateau. So how about we yarn and mow some stupid other time and just leave your life as a rose garden to go sail around the world? But never talk to me now that I’m especially impatient, now that I’ve it’s really good but still have down moments.
That’s your urinary calling, I fucked a doctor let’s get paid. I’m outta here with a thousand fewer goodbyes and a fat middle finger tattooed to my spine so I’ll see you when the sun dies down if I have a little drumbeat left in me and a sneaky feeling that I can’t leave you with just that.
I just can’t respect someone who expects me to Obviate her own circumstances. My belly is marbling and I’m just in a place in my life where soon that won’t might no longer be an option.
Did you get the new phone? I sent a message to your phone but you were busy so I spun around in the cold outside the mall waiting for you to Octopus your responsibilities for my own selfish benefit. I don’t hate you Paul. But I never forgive and coming from me let’s just already know where that’s headed, okay? Good, thanks. Now where’s that stupid bitch I always hoped to fuck and snap her mind back from Sally Green Gables. Because yes, we all do. And still did. Even if you weren’t aware.
So that puts you on the radar with the other habit-path from this past baptism. Since the last one I’m smothered in fetus so don’t even bother. I’m gonna crowd you out morally once I ever even get my shit together. Did you hear that crackling pound of bacon? That’s the sound of me never needing a nose more in my life. And don’t start in with that: my prickly inheritance just got a little bit thicker. No thanks to you and the smut-mongering nobodies you prefer to consider your very best friends and family. Sail a ship to nowhere and see if I write you. Because I promise it won’t be me. Or because nobody else will.
That’s enough for now I hope you reconnect with your ailing father and make amends with everyone who’s wronged you. I’m positive it’s all within beach. Ok bye now whoever you are. Whatever your name is. You never even had a small chance of survival so perhaps you’ll consider calling it a day, month, year, etc. and just leave all your clothes in a big pile on the living room floor. Ok bye again I know I said that but bye. Seriously bye. I don’t have anything more to say to you bye. Toodles. Have a nice cow. Eat your fucking breakfast. Sorority sleepypilled senescence my mother in handbags chopped in rags veiled and soiled boilerplate bloodbloom as-if intellectualism. I said it to make it not stink. In honor of a good and constant tomorrow. Whatever.
Carolyn