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What do you want a clock for?” “To find out what time it is,” I said. “I think that’s the usual purpose.

Jeff Lindsay

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Jeff Lindsay
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: July 14
Novelist
Playwright
Writer
Miami
Florida
Jeffry P. Freundlich
Jeffry P. Lindsay
Think
Thinking
Usual
Clock
Purpose
Find
Time

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Dying makes everyone weaker, subject to painful insight, and not always insight into any kind of special truth - it's just the approaching end that makes people want to believe they are seeing something in the line of a great revelation.
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...she opened the door very slowly and carefully, half hiding behind it, as if badly frightened of what might be waiting for her on the other side. And considering that it was me waiting, this showed rare common sense.
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For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.
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In its own way the kiss had been an act of murder.
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And once again I found myself wondering, as I drifted off to stunned and unbelieving sleep:How do these terrible things always happen to me?
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I thought about the nice clothes that I always wore. Well of course I did. I took pride in being the best dressed monster in Dade County.
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I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.
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It was such an unexpected and genuine smile that if I only had a soul I'm sure I would have felt quite guilty.
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I don't know if you have noticed this, but it is quite possible for two human beings to have a conversation in which one or both parties involved has absolutely no idea what they're talking about.
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When faced with people who have very limited conversational skills and no apparent desire to cultivate any it's always easier to simply go along.
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I sighed as comforting as it may be to some of us, sarcasm, like youth, is wasted on the young.
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Now I know what it is like to feel like a total idiot.
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Life's only obligation, afterall, was to be interesting.
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Feeling - what authentic human fun!
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No big deal. We all have blood in us, the trick is keeping it inside.
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But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.
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I had killed our careful relationship by driving my tongue through its heart and pushing it off a cliff.
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I'm a very neat monster.
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I looked around the store and what I saw was not very encouraging. There were rows and rows of violent toys...aisle after aisle of training devices for recreational slaughter. No wonder our world was such a mean and violent place...if we teach children that killing is fun, can we really be surprised if now and then someone is smart enough to learn?
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This was just no fun. I wanted my brain back.
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