Z has on ghoulish face paint. She talks about split men wanting to fuck her.
She doesn’t like to get involved with them. They are needy.
Her doctor instructs her like a dumbass, it offends her decency. They say
they are decent and at the same time they badger her with simple instructions.
She wants to get away from them not to punch them in the mouth.
They say that it’s a bipolar thing when she says something
violent. They have a label for everything. One doc gave her a diagnosis and
said he doesn’t believe in labels. He advised her not to tell anyone her
diagnosis. Tell your boyfriend you have depressive symptoms he said.
He made her feel ashamed. She tells everyone everything not to feel
inferior. What she doesn’t reveal she also keeps from herself. You can see it
when she acts it out in a ritual.
The doctors believe in science. When they see her they see science. They see the bigger picture.
They see the universe. She thinks they have made her think she needs them. They did help Z to get healthy.
A woman wants for me to fly to Canada to tie her up in a motel room, said F.
She knows all these holds. She can kill me easily. I will not untie her and fly back.
I’d like to punch you in the mouth Z said. You’re a dumbass and annoying.
I generally don’t hit women, F said.
Z felt shaky and empty. She hadn’t been out of the house for two days. She sent naked pics
of herself to men online. She hates them. They love for her to hate them. She gives them
what they want. She just wants to have fun. It doesn’t last very long. She gets tired
of having to fight everyone.
I got my diagnosis Z said. I have schizo disorder, eating disorder, and bipolar disorder.
I have met the threshold for fucked. They should have stopped after the second one.
I love my counsellor.
F gets panicky when Intel workers get heated over cyber warfare.
F thought about his mother. He felt she had understood his failure to make anything of himself and yet he had never understood her because she had never allowed him to see the pain he had caused her. He was still angry with her for being ashamed of him ten years after her disappearance.
F wants to see Z fuck her friend T. T has a face like a stretchy cunt. She doesn’t wear make up. She looks like she was very pretty once. She looks like what Z will look like in ten years.
F can’t tell if his doctor is talking to him or to his disease. Sometimes F thinks he wants to sleep with him. He can see him peer at him from behind his clinical gaze. It scares him. He feels his doc is possessive. He doesn’t want him to own him. F thinks he is isolated.
It made me sad when you said love doesn’t last, F said. How would we recognize one another on the other side.
Whatever, said Z. Z grabbed his wrist and pulled it to her. She put eyeliner on his long lashes. He felt like a stubborn child.