Jeff Lindsay
Jeff Lindsay
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth14 July 1952
CountryUnited States of America
stupid firsts remember
For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.
formal should furious
Getting yelled at by a furious woman should be a semi-formal occasion.
night self silence
And then more quiet, silence so deep it almost drowned out the roar of the night music that pounded away in my secret self.
monsters logical inhuman
Because I am an inhuman monster, I tend to be logical,...
fun feelings humans
Feeling - what authentic human fun!
Rectory always sounded to me like a place you would find a proctologist.
lying doors long
After a long moment I closed the freezer door. I wanted to lie down and press my cheek against the cool linoleum. Instead I reached out with my little finger and flipped the Barbie's head. It went thack thack against the door. I flipped it again. Thack thack. Whee. I had a new hobby.
dream distance stupid
Another dream. Another long-distance call on my phantom party line. No wonder i had steadfastly refused to have dreams for most of my life. So stupid; such pointless, obvious symbols. Totally uncontrollable anxiety soup, hateful, blatant nonsense.
useless morality
And here I always thought morality was useless
hard-work thinking hair
It was always hard work to push through a crowed of reporters with the scent of blood in their nostrils. You might not think so, since on camera they appear to be brain-damaged wimps with severe eating disorders. But put them at a police barricade and a miraculous thing happens...The strength comes from some mysterious place-and somehow, when there is gore on the ground, these anorexic creatures can push their way through anything. Without mussing their hair, too.
beautiful rip heart
I rose to my knees, mouth dry and heart pounding, and paused to finger a rip in my beautiful Dacron bowling shirt. I pushed my fingertip through the hole and wiggled it at myself. Hello, Dexter, where are you going? Hello, Mr. Finger. I don't know, but I'm almost there. I hear my friends calling.
clever smart character
I am not shy about admitting my modest talents. For example, I am happy to admit that I am better than average at clever remarks, and I also have a flair for getting people to like me. But to be perfectly fair to myself, I am ever-ready to confess my shortcomings, too, and a quick round of soul-searching forced me to admit that I had never been any good at all at breathing water. As I hung there from the seat belt, dazed and watching the water pour in and swirl around my head, this began to seem like a very large character flaw.
thinking waiting machines
I let it ring. I wanted to breathe for a few minutes, and I could think of nothing that couldn't wait. Besides, I had paid almost $50 for an answering machine. Let it earn its keep.
people fake feelings
Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake it all. I fake it very well, and the feelings are never there.