Twitterature (7 page)

 

In prison. This nice man from New York wants to know my story - think he will help me go free by telling my side.

 

I guess the Clutters were actually a nice family, and their death has wounded this town and the police who investigated the crime.

 

But really, I wish a giant bird would just kill them and carry me off to paradise.

 

Sentenced to death. Whenʼs the reporter going to finish his book?? A lot of weird people on death row.

 

Out of appeals. Hurry up with that book! Dear Truman Capote, itʼs really not fair, everyone here has a social disease!

 

 

Ah well - too late! Sorry to everybody, I guess. Honestly, I canʼt decide much of anything for myself. Maybe that was my problem?

 

 

Famous! Book a big hit with everyone except all those involved. End is a bit gruesome though, maybe add a sentimental scene at a graveyard.

 

A shame this book has lost me all of my friends. If only I was less obsessed with work I wouldnʼt be so alone, so terribly fat and alone.

 

Made some new friends. Answer to my prayers. I had to promise Iʼd never write about them. I can live with that.

 

Finally moved into the new place. Jason can find a respectable job, Iʼll stay home and raise the kids. Life is finally looking up!

 

Seems ʻrespectable jobʼ means screwing the kingʼs daughter. Not cool. Need to consult my girlfriends.

 

Good, the gals stand outside my house all the time. The constant chanting is creepy, but all agree: Jason crossing the line!

 

 

When he gets home weʼll talk. Iʼm sure we can work it out. But whatʼs the best way to approach this? Any advice, anyone? #wackrelationships

 

 

He says he ʻhas toʼ marry her because weʼre ʻwanted criminalsʼ and we need ʻprotectionʼ. Yelled at him. Lots. He doesnʼt listen!

 

Checked Kosmo, but all hot Spartan sex tips, no advice for what to do when refugee husband marries another woman because he
loves you
.

 

 

I feel a bit of the LOCO coming on! Mood swings and witchcraft: two things every femme fatale needs.

 

D Jason: Hey baby, come home. I made a gift for your wedding. I ainʼt mad anymore baby, I promise.

LOL, he totally bought it. Yeah, itʼs a nice dress - with POISON. Isnʼt that funny? My girlfriends donʼt think so. Theyʼre weirded out.

 

D KingOfAthens: Can I crash at your place? Please? Promise, or Iʼll kill you with my magic just like I killed the king of Corinth.

 

 

Canʼt. Stand. The. Chanting. Why do I always get the chorus of criticism?! Some friends!!

 

Uh-oh. Jason is home and heʼs pissed.

 

Ran inside with a sword before Jason could stop me. Didnʼt want the kids to hear us arguing, so I took them to a better place - the freezer.

 

Jason very unhappy I murdered the children. Told him to go bury HIS WIFE! I thought it was a great comeback but it didnʼt help.

 

Dad sent me some dragons. Iʼm gone. Jason can deal with his own shit. Iʼm off to Athens. Maybe THEY can handle an independent woman!

 

I swear Iʼm not crazy, Iʼm just passionate. I just want respect. I just want to be loved . . .

 

London is a totally ridiculous place these days. (I actually mean ridiculous in a totalitarian way. Best keep this to myself.)

 

Whatʼs with slogans like ʻWar Is Peaceʼ? Do only I see they make no sense? Seems someone in government is on a very big opposites kick.

 

I found a little journal and a tiny place in my room where Big Brother ISNʼT watching. Now I can record my dissident thoughts/jerk it.

 

Look, brother, if I wanted to be WATCHED doing my dirty business, Iʼd make a sex tape. Oh? You already have it?

 

God I hate rats. Itʼs important that you know how much I hate rats, because I really, really hate rats.

 

 

At work; dullsville. How can rewriting history be fun if youʼre betraying the timeless ideal of truth? Letʼs see: Truth Is Lies?

 

 

Disregard last tweet. Need to keep those bad thoughts out of my head, otherwise Iʼll have to make a trip to the Ministry of Love.

 

P.S. By ʻLoveʼ they mean imprisonment, execution, and unspeakable torture. In that order. Like I said, opposites are the new white.

Met a drab hot girl today. Slipped me a note saying she loved me. Romance is forbidden because everything good in this society is bad. Hmm.

 

Fuck it, lifeʼs a risk. Had sex on the hillside; went wild, though for a moment I was ashamed of my varicose veins.

 

While you should never date a hooker or a porn star, I suggest a girl who writes porno. Guess what she thinks about all day?

 

We defeated Eurasia in the war! Or was it Eastasia all along? Either way, weʼll take them as usual!

 

Julia and I do it every day. Nice store owner rented us a room without cameras. Must not launder bed sheets too often or weʼll be caught.

 

My boss wants to see me; this canʼt be good. Maybe Iʼll get laid off and have to transfer to the Ministry of Irony.

 

Surprise. He is part of a secret organization devoted to overthrowing the party. Julia and I are in. This is so exciting!

 

Just kidding. Big Brother WAS watching! Carted off to the Ministry of Love, as I tweet. Makes me think of childhood, for some reason.

 

 

Sometimes youʼre locked up in a secret government prison. Then you meet this crazy old woman. And itʼs your mother.

 

Hard to post through endless rounds of torture. OʼBrien tells me that the Party wants power for powerʼs sake. Deep, man.

DAMNIT. FUCKING RATS IN MY FUCKING FACE. WHY DID I TELL I HATE RATS? NO KILL JULIA PLEASE GODDAMNIT. FORGOT: THEREʼS NO GOD.

 

Iʼm a free man. I do love Big Brother. He is doubleplusgood - truly, in my heart, I love him. Because I am free. So very free.

 

For TWITTERATURE of
On the Road
by Jack Kerouac, please see
On the Road
by Jack Kerouac.

 

Iʼm a sick man. A very sick man. My liver hurts. Good. Iʼm sure the doctor could fix it, but I ruin my liver to spite my face.

 

I used to be a magistrate. No big deal. Mostly just teeth-gnashing and yelling at officers. Typical bureaucratic nonsense.

 

I know how math works, and I know 2x2=4. But it would be fucking wild if 2x2=5, eh? And after all, why shouldnʼt it?

 

My life is so stagnant, but I just love sitting on the couch all day. Inaction: where the living is easy. If you can call it living.

 

Oh my tooth! Oh my awful tooth. LISTEN TO ME: My tooth hurts and my wailing will cause you pain, too. Hah!

 

I want revenge on all those who have harmed me. Is this unhealthy? Good. Iʼm a bit of a sociopath, arenʼt I?

 

An officer pushed me at a bar. I will find this
pizda
son of a bitch and maybe murder him slowly. Iʼm a bit of a sociopath, arenʼt I?

 

I always walk on Nevsky, trying to find him. If I see him, Iʼll challenge him to a duel. Because itʼs the rational thing to do.

 

Yes, the best thing to do is bump into him.

Bump. That
ebanatyi pidaraz
didnʼt even notice!! God, Iʼm an insignificant
khuy
, oh well.

 

Iʼm going out to dinner with some people. I donʼt really want to. But I want to go to prove that I can. Maybe I can ruin the evening.

 

Iʼm waiting, theyʼre not here yet. Itʼs been an hour. Couldnʼt they call?
Dolboebs
.

 

Alright, theyʼre here now. I shouldnʼt have drunk all that wine. No biggie. Iʼm only six glasses ahead.

 

Can you believe one of these idiots tried to talk about Shakespeare? What could he know about Shakespeare?
Blyadischa!

 

 

Speaking of
blyadischa
, weʼre going to a brothel. This should be fun. I love hookers.

 

 

I met this sweet girl Liza. I did her, made fun of her, convinced her life as a whore was crap, then split. Iʼm a bit of a sociopath, no?

 

I also told her she could come to my house if she wanted

to escape. Ohh, the crazy things I say during sex.

 

Now I have to borrow money from my friends for this hooker. Sex may be Godʼs gift but itʼs not cheap.

 

Liza actually showed up at my house. I yelled at her and made her cry. She left.

 

 

I chased after her for a bit but couldnʼt find her. My life is miserable and lonely. I should get my sociopath shit together.

 

Nothing beats hanging out with a ret—. . . idiot, all day. How did I become a babysitter for Rain Man? Minus the superhuman talent, that is.

 

Lennie killed some mice. Great. Itʼs kind of ironic, because compared to a smart guy like me, heʼs kind of a mouse, isnʼt he?

 

Come to think of it, it is pretty funny, because, you know, I am a MAN, and they are MICE, and Lennie is KIND OF BOTH. Get it? (Obvious?)

 

Need to find work. Ret—. . . Lennie here doesnʼt know how to monitor his food intake - weʼre running out of DOUGH. Bam! Pun!

 

Do they call it the Great Depression because everybody is depressed?

 

 

We found a ranch to work at. Lennie none too bright, but good with his hands. Real steady hands. Iʼd trust him handling just about anything.

 

Playing cards all day. The rancherʼs son is an asshole, but his wife is a pretty swell gal. Also a bit of a party girl.

@Lennie: Goddamnit: donʼt you know groping women is illegal? Itʼs 1929, man, women have RIGHTS now. Theyʼre EQUAL. Kind of.

 

Now Lennieʼs in trouble with the law. How can you accuse a guy of rape when he doesnʼt know his boner from a hole in the ground?

 

 

Thereʼs a pretty cool guy here - @Candy. You should check him out, though Candy is kind of a stripper name, isnʼt it?

 

Lennie broke the ownerʼs sonʼs hand, which was kind of funny because his bones popped out of his hand. They were, like, visible!

 

 

Lennie just wants to live off the fat of the land. Working like a dog in a rock and roll band.

 

Lennie came back into the cabin with that look on his face and I said, Lennie, did you kill another woman?

 

 

He told me he had done it again, he thought. Why do I get stuck with the dangerously disabled? Did Forrest Gump ever hurt anyone?

 

I hear the lynch mob outside. This is the third time this year that we gotta go ʼcause Lennie made a mess of things.

 

I canʼt deal with this shit anymore. I have a headache, I need an Advil and a good roll in the hay. But Lennie is the Anti-Poon.

Iʼm going do what I shoulda long ago: shoot this ret—. . . friend, in the head. Otherwise, the mob will torture him. He deserves a quick death.

 

He is my friend though. But I have to do it myself; the law wonʼt euthanize the disabled here, and Texas is way too far away.

 

 

Another day in the good old Depression.

 

What America needs now is a bottle of Prozac.

 

What does my dad know? Embarking on a sea-journey as an indentured servant seems like a perfectly wonderful idea.

 

Man-of-war screwed us. Iʼm a slave. What a fright it gave me! Oh well, life has its lulz and downs.

 

 

I tossed this other slave from the fishing boat, and Iʼm off to Africa with a slave boy.

 

 

I really do like this slave boy, heʼs like family, a really good friend, sticking by me through thick and thin. Iʼll always be loyal to him.

 

I sold the slave boy to a Captain who offered to take me to South America. Iʼll use the rest of the money to buy some tobacco.

 

 

Iʼm finally going to be a sailor! Someoneʼs taking me on their ship.

 

 

Jesus Christ. A storm! Weʼre sinking!! Wait, wait. Hereʼs a great idea: If I live Iʼll be forever loyal to God.