when Lisa told me

When Lisa told me she’d made love
to someone else, in that old Tepeyac warehouse
phone booth, I thought my world
was over. A tall, skinny guy with
long hair and a long cock who didn’t wait
more than one date to penetrate her deep.

Roberto Bolaño

 

remember this

humansofnewyork:

“I think I felt entitled to success because I’m smart and I’m good at stuff and I work hard. Maybe ‘entitled’ isn’t the right word, but I just thought things would happen for me. I went to a private school in DC—the same place that Obama’s kids go. Then I studied film at Columbia. But not much has happened for me since. I guess the main thing that I lack is single-mindedness. I’m too scattered and complacent. I have a hard time finishing things. I paid to go on a screenwriting retreat recently. It was a bunch of New Yorkers at an old monastery in the middle of Italy. It was a magical, quiet place, and we didn’t talk until noon, and I managed to finish about 60 pages of a screenplay. I left feeling very motivated. But when I got back to New York, I lost focus again. Recently I had my ten-year reunion at Columbia, and that was pretty traumatic. Some of the kids from my film program had become famous. Everyone seemed to have a good job. I used to pride myself on not being focused on money. Now I’m thinking that would have been preferable to not having focus at all.”