by Karen Swartz
Things are a little out of hand. Information fills room after room after room. I have no bloody idea where I am. I have your photo, but the navigational coordinates are difficult to interpret. Where the hell are you, anyway? I don't like mazes — too much like that Greek myth. Gee, you have remarkable eyes. I'm always struck by them. I've been known to hold my breath — it seems wrong to exhale. And you smile as if the world makes you happy. I've always liked that about you, how approachable you are, how unassuming. It's adorable. Everyone says so. You don't answer emails, though, and that's a bit disappointing, a tiny imperfection. Did you know that every Persian carpet includes a flaw so as not to offend God? Did you know that you can track an IP address from an email? Of course, what do you do with an IP address? You have to be the CIA to take it farther. Do you think that artists have a divine calling? Do you think you have a divine calling? What would you call it, then? I think you are too modest, but it's a charming quality. No wonder you're so popular. Did you know that your entire life opens and unfolds like a map on the World Wide Web? Information fills room after room after room. Did I say that before? Your hair looks much better short, by the way. Long doesn't suit you. You should always keep that in mind. I've been meaning to ask — how do you decide where to break a line of poetry? By syntax? Logic? Breath? Rhythm? Or is it purely by the way the text looks on the page? That always puzzles me, where to break. The lines just want to keep going and going and turn the corner and keep going... Sometimes the words get loose altogether and it's a nightmare trying to impose order. It's brutal, what that does to me. I'm not like everyone else, you see. I'm complicated. Whimsy has its place, but can't you ever be serious? You really should be serious. This is a serious matter.
I know where you live.
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I tend to develop obsessions - with artists, musicians, writers, a song, a movie, a book, a topic. I often find myself ridiculous. So I decided to write about obsession. I posted it on my blog some time ago and just recently happened across it again.
Absolutely wonderful. Your character's stream of consciousness is perfectly defined as a voice. You can feel the upset, the desperation, the rush of mingled fear and insistence. Which of course, makes the last line so goddamn scary.
This is terrific - a definite fave :)
terrifying. you know i love your writing but this is seriously great. i'm glad you don't know where i live. wait, you do.