Some too, would make mention of the actual word ‘rumour’, as in ‘Rumour says’, before going on to personify rumour, as if it wasn’t they who were launching or perpetuating Rumour themselves.
So shiny was bad, and ‘too sad’ was bad, and ‘too joyous’ was bad, which meant you had to go around not being anything; also not thinking, least not at top level, which was why everybody kept their private thoughts safe and sound in those recesses underneath.
I was too buzzy to read, thinking of teacher, of her manner of saying there were sunsets every day, that we weren’t meant to be coffined and buried whilst all the time still living, that nothing of the dark was so enormous that never could we surmount it, that always there were new chapters, that we must let go the old, open ourselves to symbolism, to the most unexpected of interpretations, that we must too uncover what we’ve kept hidden, what we think we might have lost.
He made lewd remarks about me to me from the first moment he met me —about my quainte, my tail, my contry, my box, my jar, my contrariness, my monosyllable—and he used words, words sexual, I did not understand.
As someone, a very ordinary person from ‘over the road’, once said on TV, succinctly too, because he wanted to a kill person of my religion in my area—which meant everybody in my area—in retaliation for some renouncer-of-the-state from my area walking over the road and bombing to death many people of his religion in his area, ‘It’s amazing the feelings that are in you.’ And he was right. It is amazing, no matter it may not be yourself who pulls the trigger in the end.