The family, sacred, the sacred family, the secret family. Do everything for your family, keep the family together. Bollocks. Jorjo's only my half-sister, sister-half, half of me. I am the hips, she's the brain. I wish I had a brain, nothing wrong with being the hips. She's the brain, I'm the hips, siamese. I want a brain, she needs a pair of hips. One becomes what one practices; I have been so busy 'hipping' Jorjo's thoughts that I have become all hips, no room for practising brains, no brain. Where is it? I am sure I must have one somewhere. If only Jorjo would give me more space, a pair of lungs and clean air. I feel suffocated by her constant stream of words, joint together, one after the other. They roll around my neck, press tightly, a bit more tightly, tight tight tight, tough. Jorjo's words have a rhythm that dictates a marionette dance. My mouth says yes, sure, of course, my hips do all the rest. What do I want? I do not know. She wants this play to be her way; I want to keep the Sacred Family. I am joint, I am not I, I am we, us, her. I want to dance the dance of me.
Look at Vanessa, all love and full of life. She's made an environment around her that includes a house, a job, a man. Do I want all these things? I am sure I do not know. I have not had a time to think. I have no brain, no wish. I've just been trying to fit in.
But I am sure I have a lot to do with it. Why do not I stop her? Why do I not put in front of her another path to walk together hand in hand and not brain on hips?
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