I'm the sort of asshole who can't do parties. Generally speaking. Work has a party, I can't. Everyone insists they want me to attend, I can't. The whole crew makes a point of it, I can't. The person it's for, my boss, she's having a baby shower-- but I just can't. I leave an envelope offering to do a baby portrait and vanish in a puff of Can't.
And when I disappear down to the beach, to sit in my favourite tree & finish reading about the contemporary history of the theory of postmodernism-- I still can't. People notice me and remark on how cute I look sitting there, how perfect a place to sit that is, etcetera: I just can't. Do I speak to anyone? Do I interact? The hell I can.
Eventually the book's done & I descend quiet as a raccoon to fuck off home, to contemplate dinner and whether or not I have anything else in me. Can I finish art? Do I want to? The visualizing comes easy. The wherewithall, maybe it's the trade war, maybe there's shortages. In the main, though, it's the people all around. I want to be social:
But the actuality of interaction, all these voices, all this clamour over fuckall-- it's people. People make it impossible. If it were only animals, only insects, only plants swaying in the wind... But I crave to be able to "relate" to others, to talk, to bridge the surrounding emptiness. And I can't. I only want my husband. I don't want the rest of the world.
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