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Prose Fightclub 12.08 Tylerdurden

Prose Fightclub 12.08 Tylerdurden

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Published by thetruancybot

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Published by: thetruancybot on Dec 04, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Tyler got me a job as a waiter, and after that, Tyler’s sticking a gun in my mouth asking me why I broke my promise.Don’t get me wrong, I love everything about Tyler Durden. His courage and his smarts. Hisnerve. Tyler is funny and charming and forceful and independent, and I look up to him. I expecthim to change my world. Tyler is capable and free, and I am not.Tyler kneeling next to my bed says, “Close your eyes and give me your hand.”I close my eyes, and Tyler takes me hand. I feel Tyler’s lips against the scar of his kiss.“I said that if you talked about me behind my back, you’d never see me again.”Fine, Tyler. leave. You’re just a dream. I’ve been here for longer.I’ve been here from the beginning.I remember everything.Three weeks and I hadn't slept. Three weeks without sleep, and everything becomes an out-of- body experience. This is how it is with insomnia. Everything is so far away, a copy of a copy of acopy. The insomnia distance of everything, you can't touch anything and nothing can touch you.My doctor said, "Insomnia is just the symptom of something larger. Find out what's actuallywrong. Listen to your body."I just wanted to sleep. I wanted little blue Amytal Sodium capsules, 200 milligram-sized. Iwanted red-and-blue Tuinal bullet capsules, lipstick-red Seconals. My doctor told me to chewvalerian root and get more exercise. Eventually I'd fall asleep.But I didn’t. My job wasn’t helping either. I went on incessant “business” trips, flying fromairport to airport.You wake up at Air Harbor International.You wake up at O'Hare.You wake up at LaGuardia.You wake up at Logan.You wake up at Boeing Field.You wake up at LAX.I set my watch two hours earlier or three hours later, Pacific, Mountain, Central, or Eastern time;lose an hour, gain an hour.
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.You wake up, and you're nowhere.Sometimes you wake up and have to ask where you are.You wake up, and that's enough.I needed a vacation.You wake up at the beach.You wake up, and you meet Tyler Durden.You wake up, and there he is. Naked, sweating, gritty with sand, his hair wet and stringy,hanging in his face.You wake up, and Tyler pulls on a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and starts to leave. I had toask. I had to know what Tyler was doing while I was asleep.His name was Tyler Durden, and he was a movie projectionist with the union, and he was a banquet waiter at a hotel, downtown, and he gave me his phone number.And this is how we met.When I came home, my condominium was destroyed. Who or what did it – I had no idea. But Ineeded a place to stay.So I called Tyler.The phone rang in Tyler's rented house on Paper Street.Oh, Tyler, please deliver me.And the phone rang.Oh, Tyler, please rescue me.And the phone rang.Tyler and I agreed to meet at a bar.Tyler and I, we met and drank a lot of beer, and Tyler said, yes, I could move in with him, but Iwould have to do him a favor.Tyler told me he wanted me to come back to his place. He had something to show me.
You see, Tyler made soap. According to him, it was a very lucrative business. He just sold someto Nordstrom’s at 20$ a bar. This was paying the rent for his sad excuse for a house. But to makesoap, first you need lye.When we get back to his house, Tyler sits me at a table. He kisses my hand. A wet, sloppy kiss.The kind your aunt gave you. Tyler then pries the lid off the can of lye. He tilts the can of lye aninch above the shining wet kiss on the back of my hand.“This is a chemical burn.” Tyler says. “and it will hurt worse than you’ve ever been burned.Worse than a hundred cigarettes.”Tyler pours the lye. Tyler’s saliva did two jobs. The wet kiss on the back of my hand held theflakes of lye while they burned. This was the first job. The second was lye only burns when youcombine it with water. Or saliva.Close your eyes.“Pay attention. This is the greatest moment of your life.” Tyler says. “Because everything up tonow is a story, and everything after now is a story.”When Tyler let me go to neutralize the burn with vinegar, it was there I realized it was thegreatest moment of my life. With this moment, my insomnia is cured. I can sleep.Babies don’t sleep this well.Every evening, I died, and every evening, I was born.Resurrected.My sudden ability to sleep made me appreciate Tyler more than I had before hand. Tyler was theguerrilla terrorist of the working class. He had a job as a banquet waiter. To make soap, Tyler needed fat. He’d go to liposuction clinics and steal it. When Tyler sold the soap, he was prettymuch selling the fat back to the people who had it sucked out. Tyler was the robin hood of thenew millennium.A saboteur for the new age. Running off committing silly crimes.Work was finally stomachable for me. When my boss asks what happened to my hand, it waseasy to lie to him. Tyler just spoke for me.I did this to myself. Laundry accident.I had to lie. The first rule about Tyler and I’s friendship is I don’t talk about Tyler.But those rules don’t matter anymore. Not now.

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