Like A Freaky Streaker
It's funny. She just found out about the letter two hours ago. I don't know who it was that called, but she went into Anne's office with the light off, shut the door, and stayed in there on the phone for 45 minutes. I was standing out in the reception area and could hear her say, "about Josh, now, I liked working with him...." voice trailed off. Nervousness. Fear. You're not wearing any clothes, emporer! How sad.
She emerged from the cave and interrupted me as I was speaking with someone about Oberlin's disaster relief effort, and what role OCS could play. "Ahhhh, excuse me, I've got to run an errand, I'll be back in 5 minutes." Okay, peace out, whatever. But so 20 minutes later she comes back, document in hand, gravelly face like a cock-eyed alligator. She enters the building, goes into her office and shuts the door, is sequestered away like this for another 30 minutes. Who's she calling? Who knows. Who cares. She gets up to fax something. Lies and fear. I'm sick and I'm tired, but it's a light at the end of the tunnel now, and not just another tunnel. When she looks at me it feels like cancer. 11:15 and the door is closed again. Why not just be honest, why not just stop this interminable game of spin control? Just leave. It's time, don't you see that? How do you not see that. It is so supremely depressing to watch her claw and scratch at this place, to watch her gnash her teeth against reality, to watch all of this stagnation mislabeled as chaos, in order to uphold the facade of service, effort, assistance. People complicate things so much.
Anne is a brave warrior. Thank god she knocked down that leaky dam.
She emerged from the cave and interrupted me as I was speaking with someone about Oberlin's disaster relief effort, and what role OCS could play. "Ahhhh, excuse me, I've got to run an errand, I'll be back in 5 minutes." Okay, peace out, whatever. But so 20 minutes later she comes back, document in hand, gravelly face like a cock-eyed alligator. She enters the building, goes into her office and shuts the door, is sequestered away like this for another 30 minutes. Who's she calling? Who knows. Who cares. She gets up to fax something. Lies and fear. I'm sick and I'm tired, but it's a light at the end of the tunnel now, and not just another tunnel. When she looks at me it feels like cancer. 11:15 and the door is closed again. Why not just be honest, why not just stop this interminable game of spin control? Just leave. It's time, don't you see that? How do you not see that. It is so supremely depressing to watch her claw and scratch at this place, to watch her gnash her teeth against reality, to watch all of this stagnation mislabeled as chaos, in order to uphold the facade of service, effort, assistance. People complicate things so much.
Anne is a brave warrior. Thank god she knocked down that leaky dam.
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