bound

Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

i recently watched that 43-hour long scorsese documentary on bob dylan. it didn't affect me that much - not as much as my boyfriend. he ran around for three days, in existential purgatory, pulling out his hair. "i have to DO something with my life!"

"i never knew dylan was so... skinny." i remarked.

i ran into a friend of mine - let's call him tibor - the other day. i seized an opportunity. "i still have your dylan biography - i gotta get it back to you."

"you have time.” he placed his hand on my shoulder. “i want you to read it."

“okay.”

tibor gave me this book easily four years ago. i read 13 pages of it, found dylan to be an asshole, and continued with the harry potter series.

about two years ago, i was having coffee with tibor and made my first attempt to return the dylan book. "keep it," he said. "i'm reading neil young's biography - it's great. i'll lend it to you when i'm done."

"oh."

when tibor left, i turned to another friend - let's call him velásquez - "i brought that dylan book to the beach. a wave washed up on shore. the book's totally wrinkled. the spine's curly."

"i never borrow books," velásquez said. "i don’t want someone to have that kind of control over me. he wanted a wave to wash up on shore. do you not see the hold he has on you?"

i've got to get that book back to him. the section with all the photos just fell out.