Friday, June 24, 2011

Man, I am actually going to die alone.

I narrate my life in my head everyday as I walk around. It is in third person, kind of like I am dead and I am narrating the life of someone who is not me. I feel real emotions, all of the time, too much, but the fact is my angel narrator feels them more. She over analyses. She makes things far, far more complex than they actually are, all of the time.

She also feels the frequent need to become involved in other people's lives. I will be trying to choose a bottle of wine, and I will be struggling because I get drunk more than what is socially acceptable, but knowing close to nothing about wine, I feel lost and sore in bottle shops. There will be two men next to me, one whom will have a voice that I think I could let envelope me, but whom is wearing construction gear which makes me afraid to look at him.

Construction comfort voice and his friend will be trying to choose wine, I will be paralysed, and my narrator will be cheering them on. 'You need something basic for a first date', she will say, 'something basic that won't make her vomit, or let on to the fact that you totally googled 'good date wine' on your I Phone before you came here. Get some Merlot. Everyone can drink Merlot, even when they are just pretending and actually hate it. ACTUALLY. You should get some champagne. It will totally get you laid.'

My narrator can really not be tamed. Being the sport she is, however, she will then direct her attention back to me: 'She picked up the cheapest bottle of whatever was white, and didn't have a font she detested. Flicking a glance at the man standing next to her, who could be cute if he was not in the construction field, she paid for the bottle and strode out with a triumphant kick. She was in her favourite shoes. They were ugly, but they had a stack heel and made her feel like she was the stompy yet sexy hero in some 90s slacker film. Sure she was going home to drink this bottle of wine alone, but only because she did not need anyone to share it with to enjoy it. She was alone. But she was alive.'

OH GOD ANGEL NARRATOR, THIS RULES! THIS IS AMAZING! I AM NOW HAVING A REALLY GREAT DAY! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NOW? PLAY A WICKED ANTHEM?

She will. But it will always be this.

No comments:

Post a Comment