Friday, March 02, 2007
My Next Adventure
(6)
Kootch lives in her world. I live in my world. You would think that (tap) over the span of fifty years (tap) we would have somehow managed to integrate those disparate worlds into a mutually agreeable common world. You would be wrong about that. After 50 years of marriage we still live in different worlds. Never the twain shall meet. Kootch and I will never agree about the Nature of our Common World. Never, ever.
And so I am making preperations to leave Kootch forever. Little does she know that we will never celebrate our 50th anniversary. She expects that we will, but she is mistaken. I would never agree to such a celebration. Little does she know.
So I am making (tap) preparations to leave her. I remember the old days when, on The Goose, I was fucking a German yum-yum while writing to Kootch of normalcy, marriagewise. In the same fashion I will not advise her. I will leave her without warning. Let her come to terms with that. I think that '50 years' is only a cultural number, meaningless: as meaningless as the length of our pathetic marriage.
At the age of 72 I am more than ready to die: let my next adventure begin!
Kootch lives in her world. I live in my world. You would think that (tap) over the span of fifty years (tap) we would have somehow managed to integrate those disparate worlds into a mutually agreeable common world. You would be wrong about that. After 50 years of marriage we still live in different worlds. Never the twain shall meet. Kootch and I will never agree about the Nature of our Common World. Never, ever.
And so I am making preperations to leave Kootch forever. Little does she know that we will never celebrate our 50th anniversary. She expects that we will, but she is mistaken. I would never agree to such a celebration. Little does she know.
So I am making (tap) preparations to leave her. I remember the old days when, on The Goose, I was fucking a German yum-yum while writing to Kootch of normalcy, marriagewise. In the same fashion I will not advise her. I will leave her without warning. Let her come to terms with that. I think that '50 years' is only a cultural number, meaningless: as meaningless as the length of our pathetic marriage.
At the age of 72 I am more than ready to die: let my next adventure begin!
