Sunday, May 3, 2009

When I get drunk...

Life Story
by Tennessee Williams
After you've been to bed together for the first time,without the advantage or disadvantage of any prior acquaintance,the other party very often says to you,Tell me about yourself, I want to know all about you,what's your story? And you think maybe they really and truly dosincerely want to know your life story, and so you light upa cigarette and begin to tell it to them, the two of youlying together in completely relaxed positionslike a pair of rag dolls a bored child dropped on a bed.You tell them your story, or as much of your storyas time or a fair degree of prudence allows, and they say, Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,each time a little more faintly, until the ohis just an audible breath, and then of coursethere's some interruption. Slow room service comes upwith a bowl of melting ice cubes, or one of you rises to peeand gaze at himself with mild astonishment in the bathroom mirror.And then, the first thing you know, before you've had time to pick up where you left off with your enthralling life story,they're telling you their life story, exactly as they'd intended to all along,and you're saying, Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,each time a little more faintly, the vowel at last becomingno more than an audible sigh,as the elevator, halfway down the corridor and a turn to the left,draws one last, long, deep breath of exhaustionand stops breathing forever. Then?Well, one of you falls asleepand the other one does likewise with a lighted cigarette in his mouth,and that's how people burn to death in hotel rooms.

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