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SIGHT UNSEEN:
FUNNY GAMES 2
Sight Unseen Funny Games 2 - Queen Mob's Tea House
Other/Gary J. Shipley/Articles/Sight Unseen_ Funny Games 2 - Queen Mob's Tea House.pdf
24TH FEB 2015 IN MISC
BY QUEEN MOB
TAGS: SIGHT UNSEEN
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Funny Games 2
I won. It was my turn. I can’t look. We’re ten minutes in and neither of us gets it. Seems
weird though, but less weird than the day before yesterday, when I pulled this film out
the vomit of my sweetheart. Two boys then forcing her to swallow it. And the stick’s still
warm from the stomach. And it flashes on and off in the machine. Either way, the look
on her face is some piece of shit. Her breath too like the back end of anything dead. And
she melts now and then like this new family we’re watching. And the scroller tells us we
have till the weekend to pretend we’re in Florida. Where the forecast for tomorrow is all
kinds of upset. So I’m sitting here looking at one half of a woman, when there’s
sweethearts enough to last me all week. And we can feel the effects all at once in an
instant: at the back of our eyes, the film laying its eggs. It’s hard to understand a disaster
this friendly, to stop ourselves crying over the effluvium we spill. It’s harmless though,
this constant threat of death. And polite too, like the creatures crawling out her eyes are
only playing. But wow, this looking’s more dangerous than it looks. And we know how to
be quiet. Even if, with our mouths this full, it’s no kind of game. And the question
remains: did we do something wrong to end up alive? I’m happy if you are is just a way
to stay human. And could we leave now please? Did you know, the dog attacked us in its
sleep? And we behave ourselves in case we wake up. The film demands we take off our
clothes, slaps us in the face, shatters our legs, plays guessing games: cold, warmer, really
warm, hello? hello? It’s so cloudy I have eczema in all my pulled muscles. And the sun’s
little girlfriends lay dead on the lawn. This removal of nature is the love we love seeing.
But I misunderstand, and feel better than I should. To be more comfortable, I apologize,
and I hear Jesus Christ had stopped watching by now. And it’s difficult to go without
going insane. Not gay, not criminal, not alcoholic: truth is we’re failing to identify.
Fucking all this emptiness makes us hungrier for less. We fall asleep, kaput, like they say
on TV. We age like the dead. Get so old in a rush. But never that old when old becomes
sweet. Because this family game is just a grave in a bucket. And we get bored easier than
is possible. Our moral decency is silly. We’re so embarrassed it might kill us. By the way,
bravo on that degrading shit. And us with our hearts so young and so little music. All we
can do is something to eat. After all, what’s wrong with a strategy that says we should
breathe but not walk? I journey to the end of the night to wake up the next day. It’s a
signal I’m wasting my time. Please, I love you, but you killed my dream of maybe dying
from my wounds. And when we’d prepared to be audience for the whole rest of our lives.
New toys and such cowardly fucks, such pussy husband and wife. I almost cut myself on
my mistakes. If it’s possible, I’m this prayer walking backwards. Please, I was fantastic, I
was remote control. I’m so sorry your mirror image isn’t me. It’s how I avoid panic by
waiting it out: in a black hole, in another hour, with gravitational force. I’m moving for
the sake of sucking at paralysis. Hello? We met yesterday. You remember. The second I
get home I’m recasting the dog.
funny-games-13
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