“You can’t put a leash on art!” she cried. “The moment you do so it turns from a majestic lion into a grumpy house cat. Tell me, would you rather see grumpy house cats or majestic lions when you go out exploring?”
“Do I really have to answer that?” He said. “Look, I’ve had just enough of your shitty analogies. I’m really starting to think the people at the gallery were right.”
Those words delivered quite the hot stab into her artistic heart.
As an artist she was already quite famous for being rejected at the free gallery for presenting a poem about climate change written on a large, thick cardboard.
Nothing wrong so far, but the letters in the poem were formed with living earthworms and maggots and centipedes and small insects glued to the cardboard.
This morning as she appeared at the foot of his bed, in the light of the covered window, she sucked at her lips and said, “Ah, to spend one's life ever thinking about the girl one thinks one's not good enough for. Pathetic. I so pity the loser who lives life so. You know why?” In response he sighed and turned around and dragged the blanket over his head he was used to breathing the carbon dioxide from underneath the covers rather than fresh air from above But she would not go away this time. Small hands on sharp hips, she said, “What would you do if you found out that the girl you're so obsessed with... is secretly twice as obsessed with you as you are with her? What would you do, eh? If I told you that she's praying night and day to known and unknown gods, begging…
It's late 23:58 not many buildings around and even less people a few trees and bushes and a mostly empty parking lot I walk towards my car when she comes out from behind the yellow dumpster approaching me holding a clinking piggy-bank in her pale outstretched hands “No thanks,” I said and resumed my walking, checking my pockets for the car key “But,” she said, “if you don't take it I won't be able to haunt you tonight.” I stopped Turned around Walked back a few steps to face her again I pulled out a coin and tossed it into the small opening of the piggy-bank There is a middle way, apparently If you have an infinite amount of coin tosses you have a possibility of landing it on neither heads nor tails Eventually, it'll land on its edge and stay so I think it did on that night I'm…
the best part about her is that she can never use the element of surprise No, she's always writing with thick carpenter crayons on the walls and details all her plans A STRAND OF HIS HAIR, she writes this evening. AS HE FALLS ASLEEP, I'M GOING TO CLIP A STRAND OF HIS HAIR AND HIDE IT BEHIND MY EYEBALLS. I'LL PUSH IT DEEP He reads the words as he puts on pajamas and goes to bed and pretends to be asleep when his wife comes to cut his hair with the scissors He smiles to himself thinking, or rather knowing for sure, that he'd found true love in life Mental illness is not something to get in the way on the contrary... there is a middle way, apparently It's late 23:58 not many buildings around and even less people a few trees and bushes and a mostly empty parking lot…
Daydreaming as a profession 