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I had killed our careful relationship by driving my tongue through its heart and pushing it off a cliff.

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
Tongue
Careful
Relationship
Heart
Cliff
Cliffs
Pushing
Killed
Driving

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And here I always thought morality was useless.
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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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First things first has always been my motto, mostly because it makes absolutely no sense - after all, if first things were second or third, they wouldn't be first things, would they? Still, cliches exist to comfort the feeble minded, not to provide any actual meaning.
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...my conscience has the same hard reality as a unicorn.
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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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Mutilated corpses with a chance of afternoon showers. I got dressed and went to work.
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I waved to everybody. Some of them even waved back. They knew me, had seen me go by before, always cheerful, a big hello for everybody. He was such a nice man. Very friendly. I can’t believe he did those horrible things . . .
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They like to tell us that it is important to speak the truth, but it has been my experience that real happiness lies in having people tell you what you want to believe, usually not the same thing at all, and if you have to stub your toe on the truth later, so be it.
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been there done that, bought the t-shirt Chapter 2
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After a long moment I closed the freezer door. I wanted to lie down and press my cheek against the cool linoleum. Instead I reached out with my little finger and flipped the Barbie's head. It went thack thack against the door. I flipped it again. Thack thack. Whee. I had a new hobby.
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Or was he saying, Hi! Wanna play? And I did. Of course I did.
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It really is better to be lucky than to be good.
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Life's only obligation, afterall, was to be interesting.
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A reasonable being might think that he and I could find some common ground have a cup of coffee and compare our Passengers, exchange trade talk and chitchat about dismemberment techniques. But no: Doakes wanted me dead. And I found it difficult to share his point of view.
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I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.
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She really did like me, the idiot.
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Anybody can be charming if they don't mind faking it, saying all the stupid, obvious, nauseating things that a conscience keeps most people from saying. Happily, I don't have a conscience. I say them.
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I really am guilty, of many somethings, all of them lethal and very enjoyable and technically not quite legal.
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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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The mind picks some very bad times to take a walk doesn't it?
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