We worked all day and then partied all night. I got tipsy and emotional and told my friend Louis all about the saga and the heartbreak of the past few days. I want to relay, but I'll do it it fable form:
Once there was a beautiful, magical kitten named Princess Pixie Pickles. She was a blue kitten and she was sparkly and fun and everyone loved her. Pixie loved a boy who was a Musician. She fell, madly, deeply in love, and refused to let any other boy near her while she was love with her bard. Many years passed, and Pixie continued to love her bard. The Musician never told Pixie that she was special or that he loved her, yet Pixie loved him oh-so-much. And suddenly, the Musician married another beautiful princess and yet Pixie coped. Her wounds hurt, but they healed. Although the Musician claimed that his love for Pixie ought not to be thwarted by the conventional social mores of such things as marriage, Pixie held fast to her resistance policy, clinging tenaciously to ethic values.
The Musician called Pixie and professed his undying love and devotion. Pixie thought of Joni Mitchell's love songs and crumpled beneath his adoration. He created an elaborate scenario in which they could be together in the magical land of Spain. Pixie was actually considering flying to this magical country, especially because she was SO very excited about the fact that somebunny actually loved her. But then the Musician realized that he was being completely fucking insane and that Pixie was really only something he could endulge on the side. Simultaneously, Pixie absorbed and realized and grokked the same teleological circumstances. She forced herself to disengage, yet she cried about the loss. Pixie has decided to stop trying; she has resolved to put other goals above all else. After all, she saw a crappy movie starring Renee Zelweger that advocated the pro-female position of "Down With Love." She says, "fuck love, i'd rather be bigger than the pain." and thusly, she is. down with love.
Down with love! But up with interest rates!
The title of this post comes from one of my most favoritest songs in the world, and I was a drunken rough beast slouching towards Greenpoint in a cab, all I wanted to do was jump out of the cab and stand on the arms of the Williamsburg bridge and shout "HEY MAN! THIS IS BABYLON!" but I didn't.
"THIS IS BABYLON, MOTHERFUCKERS!"