Posts tagged Glamorama

Try To Care

You try to care. But you can’t. Even if you wanted to, you can’t. And now, in this room, it occurs to you that they know this too. Confusion and hopelessness don’t necessarily cause a person to act. Someone from my first publicist’s office told me this a long time ago. Only now does it resurface. Only now does it mean anything to me.

- Glamorama (Bret Easton Ellis)

Like A Lyric From a Song

It seems impossible that I will ever get out of this house. Under my breath I’m telling myself, It’s just another scene, it’s just another phase, like it’s a lyric from a song that means something.

- Glamorama (Bret Easton Ellis)

Just Decoration

The extent of the destruction is a blur and its aftermath somehow feels beside the point. The point is the bomb itself, its placement, its activation – that’s the statement. Not Brigid blown apart beyond recognition or the force of the blast flinging thirty students closest to the car forty, fifty feet into the air or the five students killed instantly, two of them by flying shrapnel that sailed across the courtyard and was embedded in their chests, and not the other section of car, which flies by, lopping off an arm, and not the three students immediately blinded. It’s not the legs blown off, the skulls crushed, the people bleeding to death in minutes. The uprooted asphalt, the blackened trees, the benches splattered with gore, some of it burned – all of this matters just as much. It’s really about the will to accomplish this destruction and not about the outcome, because that’s just decoration.

- Glamorama (Bret Easton Ellis)

There’s Nothing Left

The Gucci tote bag sits on the bed.

It’s so cold in the room that Felix’s breath steams.

A fly lands on his hand.

Felix unzips the tote bag.

He stares into it, quizzically.

It’s filled with red and black confetti.

He brushes the confetti away.

Something reveals itself.

“No,” Felix says.

The bomb swallows Felix up, vaporizing him instantly. He literally disappears. There’s nothing left.

- Glamorama (Bret Easton Ellis)

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