Verbal Incarceration

February 11, 2012
By PenguinFeet GOLD, Bellevue, Washington
PenguinFeet GOLD, Bellevue, Washington
19 articles 0 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Yeah, well, who but the mad would choose to keep on living? In the end, aren't we all just a little crazy?" - Dulcie, in Libba Bray's Going Bovine


Expulsed from a womb on a hazy Sunday morning, she began as an entropic, nebulous sprat (with a distinctly strident panache) who danced through the crayon-strewn floors of kindergarten, hacked through swathes of math worksheets until she reached high school (the land of queen bees and lovely, sweet boys named Andrew), and lolled in her uncomfortably rigid chair as her counselor said, very seriously, that “labels are hard to break”—a statement that she swept under the folds of her expansive brain until after she’d become a college graduate, a Doctor of Philosophy, a surgeon, a soccer mom, a regular volunteer at her local food bank, an aureate Nobel laureate who spoke grandiloquently at commencements, and the treasurer of her sons’ school’s PTA; one day, seeking to quash a viscid bleb of self-doubt/confusion swelling in the pit of her small intestine (likely near the duodenum), she scheduled a postprandial writing session and sat down at a pencil-strewn writing desk thinking to define herself, but found only conformist, procrustean imprisonment as she reread her life sentence.


The author's comments:
In the style of the wonderful and brilliant David Foster Wallace, though it is doubtful I will ever write on his level.

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