bits for tomorrow

"I believe that when you die you walk into a room filled with everyone you ever hated and everyone that ever hated you and they all have glasses half lifted waiting for you to arrive as if they have always been waiting for you to arrive to raise a toast to say simply, 'can you believe we were so stupid? Can you believe that we actually fell for all these games all these stupid fucking games that kept us from loving each other? Come in. Have a drink. Everything is beautiful, can you see it?'" Dean scratches the back of his head and stares at the rug. "I guess that's what i would most like out of death anyway."
"That's very beautiful Dean." Chloe is smiling. The rest of us take gulps of drinks and hope.


other bits:

You know it occurs to me that none of this is necessary. but the perhaps seeking the necessary is unnecessary. but the point is that we don't need this. What this? Educacion. This arificial tendency to lock ourselves in rooms and discuss things created by people who had the courage to free themselves from rooms. Florescent light is not sexy. How is that? Above and beyond the obvious bluish cast--that sort of nordic blue, light of the moon on snow kind of thing--ah but not that french red sexy--candle sexy--she snuffs it with her fingers on the fourteenth floor--just in time you know--her was having second thoughts just then--and to disappear into that mouth--the overwhelming softness of lips--ah you know how it is...