There's one thing I learned from people like May. It's not really what you say, but, how you say it that puts magic in your conversation. It's not long words, vague or descriptive words. It's not classroom grammar or street grammar. It's the way you look when you talk, how you sound, and what words you vibrate, or waver on. It's how much feeling, and what kind of feelings that you inject into your speech. I find everything she said warmed my heart, and made me love her dearly. I could see, though, that she was all too sweet to raise a child, but not so sweet that she'd make you sick.
"Okay, I'll try it.." And I closed my eyes, clearing out the hospital from my mind. I found it difficult at first to lower myself into a time I didn't feel existed.
Finally I slipped into my mind, or rather a Dairy Queen, from which emerged the beautiful face of a girl who said, "Valerie Solanis is unhappy about the bitch she was when she started S.C.U.M.. This is Sharon Tate Land, Kill Leighanna, Kill Leighanna." but the echo came "kill me kill me."
"What did you get, honey?"
"Something like Valerie Solanis doesn't like the bitch she was when she started scum. You're in Sharon Tate Land, Kill Leighanna, kill me."
"Does it mean anything to you?"
"Well, no.. Let's see, uh, I have had dreams with Charles Manson, so there's a connection with Sharon Tate. I don't know about Valerie Solanis, though. The name sounds familiar, but I'm not sure why."
These days were getting long, borning, and incredibly drawn out. I wasn't figuring anything out, in fact, if I'd learned anything from all my trying, it was that this stuff was going to be impossible to decode. These days were getting so they lasted forever, I got tired of watching t.v.. May continued to tell me the broken-hearted stories of her son and dumplings. She continued to be a wonderful companion through all of this.
