I'm having a terrible a job bumping off Primrose. And I think I know where the problem lies. It's deep down there in the dark heart of structure, in the interstices of devils and angels. It's a call for shape, the slope of narrative that bounces lines off circles. Primrose is an 'ooh-la-la' forcing lines to go against their nature, spiral toward that inevitable and pathetic end that is round and dot-shaped. And I just hate being told what to do, particularly so when that voice is actually in my own head. It yells "entropy" at me and sometimes it yells "physics not geometry" and sometimes it sneers "you're an idiot." Sometimes it's the sad shrug of, "This is the way things are, so pull yourself together, get with the program." And too, I have heard the voice utter the brutal words, "Cancun might not be hell on Earth." And I'd agree, this last is so shattering a sound it might have been drawn by a pair of compasses.
However The Rabbit of Usk is not about circles, it's more about straight lines,
and I already have ghosts aplenty that haunt and drive minds to such a happy
distraction I have no doubt about their "structure-less-ness," or "solidarity,"
or as the truly insipid might argue, "incomprehensibleness." So if I can't
bump Primrose off very soon it'll be kind of like saying, "the principle object
of the past five or six winters has been to achieve absolutely nothing." And I
am beginning to think that the only way I might be able to bump off Primrose is
through some form of acceptance. And here I have identified a number of words
and phrases associated with having fallen into this hole of despair. A few of
the more obvious ones that I must be wary of using are - "Enjoy" "Have A Nice
Day" "Thank You So Much" Either way, right or wrong, I'm trying hard to
achieve a grisly, wanton and completely unnecessary end for Primrose in the next
couple of weeks.