When you ask a
man, “How can you sleep at night?” He, in all probability does sleep at night.
Nothing wakes him up – not the sound of thunder or the prick of guilt. I knew a
man like that. I knew him over and over.
It’s easy, I
ask you to name things that sell. You name them like children, little boys and
girls waiting for the last bus home.
Sex, violins,
drugs, paperback versions of the book that changed your life, corporate
services, an engagement ring, dry martinis, apple cinnamon martinis, Bono, love
toys, broken boys, ideas that changed the world, wigs, chemicals, facebook,
crude oil, research reports, mutual funds, communism.
Paper
jewellry, playstations, cardamom pie, a knife box, olive oil..
Us.
You tell yourself you would leave, when needed the most. You'd be gone on a train to nowhere at the crack of dawn before the faint patches of sunlight gather enough courage to lift up the sky.
But you're never gone really. You stand right there at the kitchen sink, looking outside a window when the faint patches of sunlight begin to show.
21St century romanticism –the fashion accessory we could all do without
