“We try in a polite and partly exhausted way” by Julia in the fishbowl

Monday February 24, 2020
3:17pm
5 mintues
Gooseberry Marsh
Gretchen Legler

I hate everything until I don’t.
It is not the other way around.
It could be innocent till proven guilty.
But that’s not how it is given that I don’t trust anybody.
Later some people are coming over to my place and they signed their names up but I don’t know if they’re coming for them or for me and I wonder if they feel sorry for me.
I don’t trust people who feel sorry for me.
I don’t like people who think I need their stupid help.
Everybody needs help, I know this, and I am not saying I am not everybody, but you’re getting it all wrong.
You’re judging by the wrong hair.
You’re sensing some tightness.
You’re making assumptions about me because I’m being prickly and you assume it has to do with something else but you can’t quite put your finger on it.
And you’re sitting there trying to figure me out because you don’t like it.
You don’t like having someone be prickly to you for what you consider to be No Good Reason.
I guess I hate you until I don’t.
I guess I would rather you avoided me because I am sitting here avoiding you.
And I hate myself too in case you were wondering about that.
That seems like the only way to get so good at hating you.

“No need to hurry” by Julia on her couch


Saturday, July 18, 2015
2:12am
5 minutes
From an email

Hi there’s something I’d like to say to you and I’m going to try to get it all out without freaking myself out into not saying it. So. Okay. Good mother of Christ. Okay.

I am not in love with you anymore. I do not like the way you chew with your mouth open. I shouldn’t have said I am not in love with you.
That was too far.
I love you and I am in love with you but I do not like some of your quirks the way I once did. The last time we spoke I watched myself tolerate you. I hate that I’ve just used that word. Oh Lord, I’m struggling with being direct with you. I’m worried that you will not be able to take my criticisms without hating yourself. For the record I do not hate you nor could I. What am I trying to say? I have to hurry so I don’t give up on telling you and I have to tell you because if I don’t then I’m afraid I just might. Might start to hate you, I mean. Not that I ever could. So the chewing. That’s a problem. The soup slurping. That’s probably a bigger one. Anything to do with how you eat, really: The way you crack pistachio shells, remove olive pits from your mouth, swallow full sunflower seeds including the shell…