Trying: Blood and Guts in High School

Lindsay and I: Notes from the Made, or The Laments of My Inanimate Self

Lindsay is the one who always gets to leave, to go out into the world, while I wait in here. She covered me up in eternal glitz and now I am stuck, forever poised to attack nothing. I knew she wanted to work, so I allowed this to happen. I knew she wanted me positioned a certain way, a way that she always wanted to be, so I let her cut me apart and reconfigure me. I knew she wanted me to have a second skin of meat, a skin that she always wanted to wear, so I embraced it when she laid this time-sink of a pattern over me. I knew Lindsay became numb to me, and no longer saw me for who I am, after so many days hours weeks months of spending time with me. So I started throwing beads off of my body. To make her have to care for me, see me, because I had become invisible to her.

We are the same, Lindsay and I, but it’s like she doesn’t even know it. She doesn’t even seem to realize that all the hours she spent working on me, I also spent working on her.

But I never remember, did I make Lindsay or was it the other way around?

100th Exercise In Style: Well-intentioned Conversational Advice for an Anomaly

I told you that you should cover it more! Don’t take this the wrong way, but when you expose the entire thing, people get nervous. And defensive. I mean, if you saw someone walking around, in front of God and everyone, with, say for instance, a finger that was practically three times its normal length, you wouldn’t exactly go out of your way to be nice to them, would you?

I’m not saying it’s right to get jostled or harassed on a crowded bus just because of the way you look. I just think you should try to blend in a little more. For starters, if I were you, and no offense, but I’m glad I’m not, I wouldn’t wear that weird braided cord on my hat. I sort of think it just brings attention to the upper part of your body, which, for the record, is exactly the sort of thing you shouldn’t be doing.

Which is why I think it’s good that you snagged a seat. That was a really smart thing to do. Because when you’re sitting, it’s a lot less noticeable. I, for one, would hardly even give it a second glance. But standing, especially when there are a lot of other people around, well, then it’s like a beacon just crying out for wary stares or disgusted looks.

And that’s why I really think you should get one more button put on the top of your overcoat. I think it will really help hide your, to put it not so delicately, freakishly long neck. No offense.