SELF EMULATION
the trials and tribulations of a model in new york city who is forced into catholic martyrdom by the hoard of migrants who have taken over bushwick, new york in the year 2030.
1.
My dreams, which have of late been given over to a truly reprobate mind, are interrupted in the middle of a bleak winter night (where there is no moon at all) (this is a Julie London reference) by a violent knock on the one door of my spacious, sparsely furnished — though so whimsical and “inspired” — studio loft apartment located just one block north of Flushing Avenue. There is definitely a certain je ne sais quoi to the place and everyone is jealous of my home or at least they used to be. For example, the ceilings are extremely high, and the old hard wood floors are the perfect shade of brown. The room has it’s issues, as do all rooms — the water heater runs out before I can run a full bath, the air quality possibly could not be worse, I think there is black mold under the sink, the furnace makes noise — but all rooms considered, this is a beautiful one, and I should be more grateful. Especially during the Lenten season which is perhaps my favorite part of the liturgical calendar.
Atypically for me, I had that prior evening taken out both of my contacts before falling asleep (I have become so very fearful of losing my vision), so as I bolt upright in bed and grab my pink rhinestone pistol off the hardwood floor next to my stained (hand-me-down) mattress, all I see is a blurry approximation of my wall, the warm glow of my Ray Peat red chicken lamp washing over a frayed copy of the painter Lord Leighton’s Flaming June, which I thrifted in northeast Philadelphia over a decade ago. Flaming June is from the Mauve Decade, painted in 1895, the year after Oscar Wilde’s play “Salomé” was published in English, the eponymous character I have named myself after. I fell in love with the painting after falling in love with the Malcolm McLaren track “Deep In Vogue,” as heard in the 1991 movie Paris is Burning, from the 1989 album “Waltz Darling,” which has miss June on the cover. Through all the trials and tribulations of the decline and fall of the American Rome (New York City), I have kept June on the walls of my home.
(Pause, sorry, I have to clarify, not to interrupt the story but to save face, the mattress is stained because I got it from some guy on Facebook for free. I didn’t stain the mattress.)