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[As usual, he's smoking. And it's not unusual that he's staring at the smoke like he's been hypnotized, but he's smiling more than he has in the years he's been on board.]
You know, I've been so fixated on these things for so many years. On cigarettes, I mean, Kools if I could get them--and it's funny that these are the greyest thing in my life. The single thing that lacks color now. I sort of expected the smoke to be blue...or pink.
I actually stopped seeing color when I was four. I think that was when I stopped believing in God, Santa, and the American Dream. I assumed for a long time that everyone went colorblind (literally, figuratively, whichever) when they got old enough to be cynical. But I came here and I met a real muse, and I've realized that I was mostly wrong.
I wonder what the rest of you lost when you stopped being kids? I don't expect many of you will answer, since most of you are understandably very sensitive about your pasts, but it's a real question. What did you lose when you grew up?
You know, I've been so fixated on these things for so many years. On cigarettes, I mean, Kools if I could get them--and it's funny that these are the greyest thing in my life. The single thing that lacks color now. I sort of expected the smoke to be blue...or pink.
I actually stopped seeing color when I was four. I think that was when I stopped believing in God, Santa, and the American Dream. I assumed for a long time that everyone went colorblind (literally, figuratively, whichever) when they got old enough to be cynical. But I came here and I met a real muse, and I've realized that I was mostly wrong.
I wonder what the rest of you lost when you stopped being kids? I don't expect many of you will answer, since most of you are understandably very sensitive about your pasts, but it's a real question. What did you lose when you grew up?
[spam]
There's a price for greatness.
[spam]
What do you think mine is going to be?
[spam]
There are two options. [She sounds somber now and kisses his cheek, any way to lighten the mood is better than none.] Do you know the story of Icarus? You would rise to a new peak and you might fall hard.
Or-- [She glances away for a split second] you can stay with me.
[spam]
[spam]
[She looks back at him, his eyes, his face, his hand on her jaw.] It'll be easier without me. You know that, don't you.
[spam]
There was nothing- nothing bearable left, back home. And this place is different. I could live here. I could be happy. But...there's a difference, between happiness and joy. [He looks at her steadily]
[spam]
It'll hurt. That's the price.
Re: [spam]
[He thinks about that. It's a daunting prospect and it deserves serious reflection. But his answer, in the end, is the same.]
I would rather plumb the depths of all human experience, even if the pain swallows me whole, than paddle in the shallows the rest of my life, trying to tell myself that it's enough.
[spam]
If you stay with me, you'll be swept under. You just won't die this time.
Re: [spam]
Maybe that's because I've only ever seen the surface.
[There are times already he feels the pull of her, something indescribable that takes him steadily further from everything he's had.]
And what will it be like for you?
[spam]
I've never been with someone like you.
Re: [spam]
...Never?
[She's known some of the most remarkable people in history.]
[spam]
I don't meet men like you every ten millennia.
[spam]
[Smiling, and maybe his ears are just a little red, and this time when he pulls her to him he rests his forehead on her shoulder.]
[spam]
[She laughs a little and nudges him back, intending to straddle his lap once he's situated on the desk. How can she resist kissing his ear?]
[spam]
I'm enjoying how new this all feels.
[spam]
I'm enjoying you.