Southpoint Fountain
At the beginning of June, when Diana Porter left on vacation to Switzerland, Dominic was stricken. "Fuck the Holy Mother," he said, despondent. "Fuck God."We approach the fountain garnishing the entrance to the Southpoint Theater and make towards one of the interactive sensors that allows control of the height of its various geysers. A very fun idea, and I'm sure the designers pictured applecheeked children enraptured with a sense of newly found power and magic, a sensation which they then carry on later in life. Maybe, though, the designers had a more realisitc, populist vision. A work of art which bestows to you, no matter who you are, how good or evil you have become, even if you are one of an endless parade of new-money, hamfisted recnecks, a small token of happiness which you will then pay forward. The worst of my fears were confirmed when, with a lascivious gesticulation, Jeff coaxes the main jet of the fountain to thrust upward then, burbling, to fall back down on itself over and over.-- The Virgin Suicides
"Remind you of anything," he said with the subtlety of a 21-YO to Heidi.
"You want to walk around or something," Heidi asks me.
"Nah, I think I'll just sit here and read." I didn't. I read bits of the same page over and over but was fascinated by the motion of humanity around me. I've been feeling distanced from peopleingeneral and I wanted to explore this sensation of closeness that happened to be there at the moment. I noticed the cologne of the people near me was evocative of magnolia blossoms which made me think of the times as a youth and later as an adult seeking the magic of youth spent in those trees which in turn helped me realize that they're probably my favorite tree ever. I try to listen to conversations, but words fall onto each other like the splashing pillars of water. Then, as I looked around, a sudden despair came. Humans have become frail inside our artificial world. Like the necks of African queens we have stretched ourselves to the points of no longer being able to survive without our binding supports. Remove the rings, our necks snap.
H&J return. I don't remember speaking but I must have. Inside I think about how we all assume different personalities depending on with whom we are keeping company and I'm sure that a lot of relationships last or end because a person likes or dislikes who they've become around their partner.
2 Comments:
fab post, baby.
I think it's time for you to rock your boat baby. I've cast away several rings lately- got no bed, got no income, got no internet, no tv, not even a boombox- less is more! Lots of walking and breath and zen. I am capable of more than I thought.
There is no Barnes and Noble in Ptown, no major grocery chain, no blockbuster video store, and they light the river on fire and walk around in black cloaks chanting once a month. It almost feels like the 1800s. I got 2 bikes the other day for twenty bucks. I am rambling now - just thinking- it is what you make it.
From a girl who likes magnolia trees as well.
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