"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves." Ludwig Wittgenstein

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Fat Angel

I’m getting fatter, Lola chided herself, as her busy, chattering, mind skittered from her diatribe against Jackie, to an inner self-accusatory monologue about her own physical appearance.  No…no, I AM fat. (Lola despised the word “Fat” because it sounded like, and reminded her of “Rat.”)  Then, as if a soundtrack were rising to support her free-associations, Lola heard the words of a distant rock n' roll song: “Well, you’re built like a car, You got a hub-cap, diamond star halo.”  Even the music confirmed Lola’s self-impression.  I AM built like a car, Lola cringed, as she lamented her self-perceived physical liabilities. But at least I have a halo.

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