2004-03-09 - 11:14 p.m.
In the press the battle is selling hard. The telephone has left the hook and the cords are stewing in juices. On the other end somebody is commenting on the latest breeze. A summer delight available at DQ $3.99. The breeze is available for a limited time only and low in fat so those with sweet teeth can avoid gluttony, I could eat a large and pretend nothing took place. I could eat it on a campus and watch the librarians cheeks grow soft. Her hands are locked as the students who have crossed oceans to enrich the university check out the Americana sections like ravenous little beasts. My librarian is impeccable and bleeding and has a face that I can't stand to glance at. We read a story together (sort of), very hard to get into. There were too many characters, the plots would fade out and the chapters failed to end symmetrically like we had hoped. One chapter ended with emotion provoking exclamation marks. "Can you give me your heart and save me from the dark." It was touching. Then the pressure on carbon formed a diamond and she got some facial toner and left him all by his hand. I've never read a book that made me feel so sad except for all of Richard Yates books.
The female protagonist in the story woke up to a new God and in her mind the God ate three times a day, slept at night and bathed daily. He was a practical God. No little quick clicks of the mouse and credit card airline purchases to break up the time between now and eternity. I think he was mostly a good God, a sad God. The protagonist tried calling to the God one day and the God didn't have his voice message turned on yet. (In the books the gender wasn't stated but I just saw passion of a Christ for the 2nd time) I imagine he would have answered in a voice mellifluous and grand. I remember hoping he's not another Quixotic God with several plateau's that need to be won before eternal bliss.
I can't remember the name of the book right now but I can remember what I was thinking of when reading many of the sentences and it was hardly related to the text. (Blink) 180
