B is for Brooke, Anyway

Yes, two posts in one day. The other one was too depressing for me to just leave there, for anyone to read and think, what a whiny spoiled idiot. So I'll move on!

So there's this book, that Jeanne gave me. Jeanne Costello. She married Phil, BTW. I don't know Philip M. I never had him, probably never will, and once I asked him if I could borrow his stapler and he looked at me as if I asked to borrow the undergarments he was currently wearing. I also declared to him that were he to show Apocalypse Now to his film class I would not take the class (due to my unaccountable fear of the horror of the Vietnam War, which might have more to do with Full Metal Jacket, or something else -- I believe there was an ear necklace involved) even though I knew full well I wouldn't have time to take the class anyway. This means that I was creating conflict where there was none, talking just to hear myself talk, but by golly, no one in that film class hardly ever said a word, and I felt like there had to be words, so you see how the outburst about Apocalypse Now came about, and this has little to no bearing on what and why I was going to blather on about Jeanne C.

Jeanne gave me a copy of the novel The History of Love. It's the kind of novel that makes you want to write. I can't get too into the love story, between the principal Holocaust survivor and the woman who had other children by another man, but I can zero right in on the story concerning when he lost everything, hearing his brothers get shot and suddenly having no home. Losing everything. Quite a concept. Being up with my aunt's family, who recently lost my uncle, the notions of loss became unavoidable. Losing everything. So many people have, did, especially during the holocaust. To lose it all, have a sack cloth covering, hopefully, and lose everything. Have your name. To try to be strong enough to own your name. To have your brain (hopefully) and your breath. Then to have your brain would be to maybe have your name. We become Jews so easily, but not so easily do we become fantastical officers. It makes me think of the line by KRS-1 -- "Who do you oppress?"

It's a question for daily torment. How do our choices oppress others? Are we really the victims that we fancy ourselves to be? I know, I know, my therapist tells me, it's not the Spanish Inquisition, Brooke, stop inquiring whether or not you are true blue, would suffer for the cause, deserve life, etc. And the body was floating in the river. And I was eating a roasted beef sandwich, and the body was floating down the river. I want to say, I am not worth it, floating body. And this too, is vanity.

Grateful? Yes. Ya. Da. Sincere. But also vindictive. Why deny? I told Todd, only if we were starving, really starving.

So. I am getting to Sound tomorrow. And you might not be able to contain your enthusiasm. You may just have to ring in and call me on all this crap.