I, Lucifer: Finally, The Other Side Of The Story - Plot & Excerpts
- to tell all.All? Some. I'm toying with that for a title: Some. Got a post-millennial modesty to it, don't you think? Some. My side of the story. The funk. The jive. The boogie. The rock and roll. (I invented rock and roll. You wouldn't believe the things I've invented. Anal sex, obviously. Smoking. Astrology. Money ... Let's save time: Everything in the world that distracts you from thinking about God. Which ... pretty much ... is everything in the world, isn't it., Gosll.)Now. Your million questions. All, in the end, the same question: What's it like being me? What, for heaven's sake, is it like being me?In a nutshell, which, thanks to me, is the way you like it in these hurrying and fragmented times, it's hard. For a start, I'm in pain the whole time. Something considerably more diverting than lumbago or irritable bowel: there's a constant burning agony, all over, so to speak (that's quite bad) punctuated by irregular bursts of incandescent or meta-agony, as if my entire being is hosting its own private Armageddon (that's really very bad).
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