Any Day Now
I'm trying to remember how many movies there are that feature people trying to drive other people insane. What the techniques may be so I can judge more accurately if Bernadette sitting next to me in bed reading The Handmaid's Tale and pretending with a high degree of believability that she cannot hear another less desirable Canadian's wailing is one of her insidious techniques for driving me crazy. That she is "in on it" is something every legitimate crazy person must consider. I think she may be in on it. Granted, the music is not very loud and I am far more sensitive and attuned to it at this point but she should be able to hear something. I glance over at her every so often, expecting a smile and a nod of gentle unspoken declaration that she hears it too, "no baby, you're not crazy," but everybody, I mean everybody knows I just might be. As a for example I offer--that if this music of Celine Dion was as in your face as I suggest then how could there not be, by now, the sound of sirens as cops respond to the domestic abuse call against a sibling, spouse, roommate, child, or next door neighbor who, really, had to be killed, or punished loudly at least? But there are no sirens therefore I may be crazy. The schizophrenic who thinks they are being radio controlled by the CIA is almost a cliche but I have known and socialized with such an individual in my past and I can tell you that except for those occasional references to the CIA and the scribble-filled notebooks of some fairly insane shit this individual was as functional as anybody you know. So maybe this Celine thing is my CIA radio control. Or it could be like whatshername on the Partridge Family when she gets braces on her teeth and starts picking up radio signals in her mouth. You know, something ordinary and plausible. In any case, it can't go on much longer. At least that's what I remember thinking two weeks ago. I wonder if I should get fitted for a foil helmet?
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