“Yeah, yeah okay, the same old warhorse trotted out night after boring night, day after soporific day, performed like a ritual in every two bit conversation when someone thinks they’ve discovered some new insight into human behaviour, humanity....”
“And loads of reputable authors write it into their dialogues too, to make their characters seem like they can actually think, be intellectual, and talk and....”
“They posit the remarkable, universally true fact that everyone has a dark secret that they’ve never told anyone....”
“Never been offered enough money for such trivia!”
“They’ve never told anyone. Always to do with sex and fingers and fingers in little sisters ‘cause that’s really evil....”
“Scatology, shit, wind and loss of control. Smelling it. Eating hers. Drinking his, pissing on her....”
“You’re enjoying it all a little too much Sunshine, aren’t you?”
“Mothers and fathers, little brother’s arsehole, abuse, abusing, but it’s ninety nine point nine percent horseshit, inevitable, unavoidable horseshit....”
“Horseplay, so, it’s all cliché, we all know that, all ritual is Neanderthal cliché....”
“Now you’re being cliché Pete, that’s cliché, that’s absurd....”
“You’re right princess, many and most profound apologies....”
“Oh señor de la pomposidad sin fin!....Listen, it’s horseshit but there is something, a grain of truth radiating away in the rotting horse pat....No....Listen! What are you really?....”
“....Me?”
“No, the general you. Not you, Alba my dear! My dear sweet little Sunrise Girl!”
“Oh shit! Out with it then! What are we all then? Let us both in on this earth shattering insight....”
“Horseshit?”
“What you are is that dark secret. You don’t have a secret! You don’t own a secret, you are that dirty deep down inside secret you can’t tell anyone else, not your lover, not your partner, wife or husband, psychiatrist or confessor. No one nowhere, nothing, never because everything you’ve so frantically divulged, banded so blithely about, it’s gone. It’s nowhere. It’s nothing, gone and forgotten by everyone, it’s not you anymore, it’s nowhere, nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard, with no one, it’s nothing. That one, last desperate black secret? It’s all that’s left of you after you’ve erased yourself with so much conversation....”
“And if you’ve actually got a deep dark secret, then you’re supremely lucky, most....
“Most of humanity are on a fraught, er, highly fraudulent crusade to fill up the void where their one true secret should reside, where they should reside, the dirty, disgusting, sordid secret that ought to define, drive the individual! Then, when they can't be bothered anymore, they simply invent the whole goddamned thing, make it all up....”
“Shit!”
“Back to the scatological then, is it?”
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