“Why the heck did "Mental Tumult" suddenly cause my mind to visualize pie?”
Juliet Cook said that and it made me laugh and want a piece of coconut cream pie.
She gets it like so many people don’t and she always comes through in the clutch even if what she’s going after does not appeal to your run-down senses.
Her dog Sockeye passed away and it continues to make me sad because I know she lost a good and trusted friend and that friends like that don’t come along that often.
My mental tumult is legendary and Juliet got a taste of this when I pulled my hair out in front of her because she wouldn’t spend every last second with me.
That’s how I finally got into Twin Peaks because it was the only way to get her to sit still and spend some qualitative time with my dispossessed self.
We break down into the littlest pieces and parts when pretending nothing affects us and denial becomes the only way we can make it another vaulted and vociferous day.
I oftentimes write line to line with a blindfold on and my bladder full of pee and other less refreshing liquid refreshments.
And I’ll never forget walking with you down 5th. Avenue as you went off to COSI and I just went off.
Sometimes I think my mental tumult is the only thing that will get me through while other times I know if I don’t get my shit together soon it will all be for naught.
We’re writers or we’re Whitehouse Chefs or we’re some other conflated concoction that may or may not make sense to the senseless masses and that’s okay because when it all comes out in the wash the blood stained reminders of past failed relationships will remain like a charmed amulet or your worst best kept secret.
And I loved you when we first hung out at your apartment with the mice and Taxi Driver poster and I fell in love with you when the smoke cleared and The Subterraneans had finally been given their day in the sun.