any man would die for t. she didn’t want any man to die for her. she wanted her own house. she didn’t know what she wanted. she didn’t want to be alone. she wanted intimacy and security. she felt intimate with the women she slept with. the men were rough and uneven. she spent most of her time on facebook and twitter. she felt good whenever she had a new follower and lousy when she lost one. she had over ten thousand followers. her boyfriend suggested that she post a photo of herself in her mauve blouse. it garnered her another thousand followers in a week. she thought men silly. what did they see in an image? she liked the feel of a body. she couldn’t see why men were obsessed with an image. she hated being an image. when men touched her she felt that they missed the mark. they never found where she was in her body. when the women she slept with touched her she was present in her thigh neck face. she had been seeing j for over a month. she thought that she was in love with her. her boyfriend m had introduced j to her. he knew her from his childhood. he thought that she was unattractive because she had the coarse features of a man. t thought that j did look like a man with her short haircut and thick black glasses. she thought that she looked like an intellectual. t and j communicated on twitter. it was electric to talk to someone in real time without having to be with the person in person. they could let their minds go free and explore without the inhibitions of social cues. they said things that they would never have said in person. t was afraid when she began to spend time with j that their connection on line would dominate. m never suspected that they were seeing one another. he was very jealous but only on the look out for other men. he was both dumb and hostile, a deadly combination. he suffered from a mental disorder. he popped anti anxiety pills and drank beer. he would harangue t with his obsessions. he had insomnia. his manias were exacerbated at night when he would talk t’s ears off. she loathed him. she didn’t know what she was doing with him. he was going to bore her to death. j wanted to have her own game boy. she had a variety of joysticks she had purchased at the good will. she would play with them and introduced them into her and t’s sex life. they played atari games, both of them were sentimental for the simple and obtuse graphics of the eighties atari games. t especially appreciated the cartridges that she inserted into the game system. j hadn’t the money to buy the latest game boy. she said that she knew of another woman who had made sexual advances that had the game boy. she had been to her house and had played a game that simulated war in afghanistan. she said that it was a real turn on and confessed that she and this woman kissed. t was hurt. she pulled her hair out. she scratched j’s arm. j couldn’t keep herself from laughing at t’s face that reddened under the eyes and looked stupid when she felt helpless. you could always buy me a game boy, she said. i don’t like this woman. she’s fat and happy in a sad way like a politician. i don’t have any money, said t. i know that, said j. your boyfriend has money. doesn’t he walk around with hundreds of dollars. i don’t know, said t. sure he does, said j. what would you have me do, asked t. i saw a movie, said j. yeah said t. this woman needed money from her husband. he abused her. she tried to run away. he broke her leg. he tied her to a bedpost with a chain. she shot him in the head and took his money. m is not very nice to you. and what’s more he always has this shit eating grin on his face. I guess, mumbled t. we could take his money, said j. i guess. i think you should. i guess. i don’t know. he can be very kind. kindness is for the weak, said j. you’re not weak. i guess. okay we’ll do it together. i have a knife. i’ll come over when he’s done talking you to death and we’ll take care of him. okay i guess. you should see how we shoot up all these arabs in the video game. it’s like nothing you’ve seen. the graphics are crazy real. it’s no big deal. you’ll see. m is a nuisance. i’ve never killed anyone before, mumbled t.
Profile: Paulus Kapteyn