Then I saw it.
A friend of Round Bend Press is going to England this summer to visit old friends and family. I've asked him to pack the new Sony "Bloggie" mini-camera that I've ordered from a Texas clearinghouse.
He's agreed to pick up some shots of London and environs for my work-in-progress, the video adaptation of A Marvelous Paranoia.
He will record a derivation of this:
Jane’s friend offered me something to eat and drink as I sat with her and her baby and made small talk. I wanted to tell her everything about my relationship with our mutual friend in Portland, but I held off. After awhile I began to sense that my visit was largely an effort to ingratiate myself into Jane’s life. By being in her friend’s London apartment I realized I was out-of-bounds, silly, obviously desperate. I left a short time later, having talked of nothing consequential. Waiting for the train later, I felt relieved that I hadn't acted the complete fool and talked too much about my love interest in Portland.
Unnerved by the visit to Notting Hill, I began to question why I was even in London. Had I gone simply to escape the harsh reality of my relationship with a married woman? It was over, and I was deeply upset by that fact, the unrequited aspect of love. And this is where my European adventure turned uncomfortable, even bizarre. Out of sorts now, fragmented by a barrage of conflicting emotions, I went to Paris, and, like a man afraid of his own shadow, I returned to London just as quickly as I’d left it.
from "A Marvelous Paranoia" (2010)
TS
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