The awful truth

X tells me he’s getting dangerously close to the home truth about himself, the awful truth, and he doesn’t want that, he says, he’d better back off. What is it that’s bringing him close to it, he says, is it me? But who’s he kidding? he says. He’s trying to put me on again isn’t he, giving himself kitschy airs again. And yet what if he really is close to the truth, the final truth he’s been circling around like a vulture, or that’s been circling around him? He’ll make sure to protect himself from the vulture if it ever gets too close, he has many ways of doing that, it’s called the life instinct, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, he says. And if it does get at him, what’s he got to lose anyway? He’s lost to it anyway, he says, the final truth, the vulture, he’s under its circling hypnotic spell, and he will be until he collapses and it hacks him to pieces.You’d like that, wouldn’t you, he says, you’d stand by and watch and not lift a hand, except for the vulture to land on when it was done.


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