My friend
I'm stumped. The prompt I wanted this to be is: "The horrible truth."
But then I'd have to write to that prompt and that would be bad too. I
mean, I know I could choose to do that right this very minute. Nothing
at all is stopping me, except I can't write down the horrible truth for
fear of it coming true. Or me being considered over an edge (there are
so many in life, don't you think?)
Another prompt I could write to: The way it works. In that one I
would admit to my habitual pattern of imagining the worst thing possible
(see "The horrible truth" above) in order to keep it from actually
happening. Extra points for saying it out loud in front of the goys.
It's not for the shock value that I say things like, "see you tomorrow,
if I don't die on the way home." It's more like an anxious Jewish
incantation. I'm casting reverse psychology on myself. Or so I hope.
But now I need a prompt called, "The problem is," because, clearly,
as you no doubt are aware, I've just spilled the proverbial beans. I'm
no longer safe if I tell you how I do it. My magic isn't that strong. Or
so I fear.
Which brings me to Shalom. Not the greeting. Not a kindness. No, I'm
talking about an author. Shalom Auslander. He is the book version of a
very edgy Woody Allen. Or, uh, any self-conscious, utterly fucked up,
superstitious, tortured by god, Jew. And that is why I love him so. He
wrote an entire book about his potential future baby's foreskin for
christ's sake. Who does that?
I might. But like Shalom, I have a hard time writing down the full,
real, cold, freaky, scary truth. I mean, I can attempt to write it, but I
usually just hit backspace and erase what I said. It's a problem, but
some things are just too hard to put down. I fear that by saying them
out loud (on a screen, or paper if we're being colloquial) that I am
bringing them to life. A kind of golem reanimation.
Golem. That would be a good prompt.
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