Twitterature

by Alexander Aciman

  Watson says I only THINK Iʼm smart because Iʼm high. Does that mean heʼs not gay, only thinks he is?

  Need opiates to restore calm. And another gram of Colombian marching powder. Itʼs hard to be the River Phoenix of nineteenth-century England.

  Damsel came back; something afoot at the factory. Broke out the bushbait so I could wake up. She wants a hit. Elementary.

  We stripped off. I did lines off her tits. Couldnʼt get it up and know not why. Smoked an entire pouch of tobacco instead.

  A working girl in Staines gave me a clue about the factory owner. Heʼs a regular customer. Pays in gold coin. High roller.

  Why are the lights at 221 Baker Street so damn bright in the morning? Why does Watson talk so loud? Elementary, my dear STFU!

  The foreman/lover discovered a precious metal. The salt deposits were cyanide crystals to poison people who got in the way. Like him.

  Note to self: Donʼt snort the crystals NO MATTER WHAT!

  Itch. Bugs in my skin. Need a line and a drink. Have the culprits poisoned me to keep me from foiling their dastardly plot? Nose bleeding.

  Decided to call in the bobbies because confronting criminals is scary. I just like books, long walks on the beach, and deductive reasoning, you know?

  Another case solved. Iʼm the Batman of Britain.

  Robert Downey Jr playing me in a film? Totally cool. Perfect.

  Eugene Onegin

  by Alexander Pushkin

  @MrDandyMan

  Life is pretty boring when all you do is bag bitches, take names, and kick ass. Also I rock and roll all night. And every day.

  Well almost as a magical cure for my boredom, my uncle is dead, and left me his house. Party in the countryside? Iʼll say.

  Thereʼs a poet here, heʼs rather kind, Iʼm going to meet his family.

  I always think the best way to get the ladies is to affect mystery and apathy.

  His wifeʼs sister is a bookworm, but wants me. Iʼm getting a clinger vibe from her. She would marry me in thirty seconds if I were into down.

  I got a really awkward love letter from the bookworm sister while I was walking around town.

  Iʼm not going to dignify this hussy with a response. Iʼll just scare the shit out of her in the street. Or I can shun her.

  Do I have to see this girl again? Sheʼll go Fatal Attraction on me. Iʼd rather have a concussion. Will she bother me, I wonder?

  Everyone told me I was very polite, but condescending. How can you both be polite and condescend? Irony? Hypocrisy?

  Iʼve been invited to a ball by the poet. I dressed for three hours. Itʼs a miserable time because it reminds me of the damned aristocracy!

  Iʼm so furious. I wanted to leave society and here I am again! The poet and his party are awful. Iʼll torment him by flirting with his wife.

  He left in a rage. I got the best of that engagement. Does this sort of manipulative, demonic behavior work in real life?

  Wanna hear something really funny? I try to sleep with his wife, he challenges me to a duel, I shoot him and he dies!

  No, seriously, pumped some lead into him, spilled that lyrical blood. I messed him up, no surprise!

  The lunatic damsel who I turned down rifled through my documents and thinks Iʼm nothing but an amalgam of literary heroes!

  This place is crap, Iʼm leaving. I probably shouldnʼt have shot the poet. Bad, bad news. Iʼm a wicked person. Woah!

  Remember that girl who wanted me, the clinger? Well I met her again, and she got really fine. I was such a fool!

  She says she canʼt love me just because she is married? Is she trying to gaslight me? What a tool.

  She gave me a whole speech, like the one I gave her, about why she canʼt sleep with me.

  Life kind of sucks, leave it to irony and selfishness to come back and bite me in the ass. Iʼm bored. Leave me be!

  The Crying of Lot 49

  by Thomas Pynchon

  @WASTEdEnergy

  Been made executor of my ex-boyfriendʼs estate. I guess thereʼs no such thing as a free gold-dig. Heading down to San Narciso tomorrow.

  From hilltop, the city looks like a giant circuit board. I feel like this image might stick with me.

  A circuit board is something that conveys information. Information seems like an important thing, but perhaps Iʼm missing something.

  In the motel, watching bad TV movies with a lawyer. This is the most awkward seduction ever.

  Taking a dump. Stall graffiti is weird: ʻJack was hereʼ and ʻthe English Patient sucksʼ. Mysterious symbol of a worldwide conspiracy?

  Anybody know what this W.A.S.T.E. thing is? Thereʼs also a picture of a horn that I think I once saw tattooed on a hipsterʼs wrist.

  These stamps sure do look funny.

  Not really focusing on the whole executor thing. Too into the whole conspiracy. Hard to concentrate with this music always playing though.

  Everyone around me has a funny name. I guess our parentsʼ generation was big on wit. ʻGenghis Cohenʼ? ʻGodʼ? ʻBradʼ? ʻBritneyʼ?

  At the theater. The play also mentions the ʻTristeroʼ thing. Talked to this dilettante director in the shower. Heʼs totally DTF.

  Trying to get information everywhere, but with little success. Talked to some guy about entropy. Will see a scientist about it.

  Scientist a total creep! He tried to show me Maxwellʼs Semen, if you know what I mean.

  Isnʼt it ironic how I am obsessed with finding information about a POSTAL conspiracy, which HAS TO DO WITH INFORMATION? Thatʼs so clever.

  Back in SF. Husband is tripping balls. I say LSD isnʼt for me. Meanwhile, Iʼm going to wander around all night seeing the horn everywhere.

  The more I investigate, the more information I seem to lose track of. That whole entropy thing, you know. God, my life is a clever one.

  My analyst lost it. I guess even our civilization has its discontents. Pretty HILARIOUS!

  Finally got estate inventoried. Auction in a couple of days. Somebody buying up the stamps that are key to this thing, but they wonʼt meet us.

  They changed their minds! Lot 49 to be bought IN PERSON. Finally the truth! Will tweet what I find out as soon as I lay my eyes on them . . .

  The Epic of Gilgamesh

  @UrukRockCity

  Itʼs pretty great being king: part human, part God, ALL ladiesʼ man.

  But I keep having terrible dreams. Are the Gods displeased with my arrogance? Not mine. Not possible. No way.

  My approval ratingʼs WAY down. Donʼt understand why most citizens feel ʻfightingʼ and ʻbanging our wivesʼ shouldnʼt be top royal priorities?

  Must attend a wedding party. Wearing fly royal robes to properly perform my prima nocta duty. Ba-da-bing!

  Why are a hooker and a big hairy dude named Enkidu blocking my way? He says he is stronger, and Iʼm a disgusting pervert. That hurts, man.

  Kicked his ass. What he said about my debauchery struck a nerve, but weʼre buddies now. Iʼd even call him . . . my bro.

  @EnkiduTheUruk: Scene is suddenly boring now that Iʼm reformed. You want to go slay a demon, bro?

  Everyone says transgressing into a Godʼs domain is a mistake. What do they know? Enkiduʼs got my back - letʼs do it.

  Oh shit. Demons are way more terrifying in person. Managed to get his armor off with promises/lies of nonstop demon-loving groupies.

  I was going to spare the demonʼs life, but Enkidu had me take him out. Ruthless. Perhaps all that hair itches.

  As suspected: all the ladies want to get it on now that Iʼve slain the demon. But I must decline. Iʼm a clean man these days.

  I just canʼt win with women. Before, nailing all the ladies was bad. Now I refuse to seduce, and the Gods send a giant bull to kill me?

  Killed the bull, too. Is there any fight I canʼt win? Enkidu seems nervous now. He says the Gods will be even more pissed.

  Great. Thatʼs it. Iʼm leaving Uruk. My best friend in the world is dead, all because the Gods couldnʼt handle our great bromanc
e.

  Found another great hero. He survived the flood of many days and nights that wiped out humanity. Thereʼs a story Iʼve never heard before.

  I wonder if he can be my new friend. I need a new heroic friend. I just feel so . . . lonely.

  He says I have to stay awake for seven days to impress him. Why canʼt I just slay another demon? Killing things is so much easier.

  Iʼve failed. Headed home. Life not the same without my Enkidu. There will never be another like him. The greatest bromance of my life.

  The Odyssey

  by Homer

  @IthacaOnMyMind

  Dawn and her rose-red fingers fingered herself. Another morning! God, this island is terrible.

  Calypso wanted to marry me. Bitch. Who does she think I am? I have a wife! Thank the Gods for allowing my escape.

  We landed on an island. Found a cave filled with food. How convenient.

  Uh oh. This cave is a giantʼs lair. He has a taste for cheese, and my companions. He also has only one eye. Trying to keep from laughing.

  Got him drunk. Put a hot poker in his ONE EYE when he blacked out. That will show him - if he could see. LOL. Time to leave.

  Damn. Poseidon pissed. How was I supposed to know One-Eye was his son? What Olympian whore did he sleep with to get an issue like that?

  Escaped again. Found another island. Some hot babes up ahead. Iʼm married but itʼs been years. Canʼt hurt. A guy needs to get his freak on.

  Circe a nut job. Time to go, but the boat is broken. Canʼt afford AAA tow. Iʼll push it. Circe turned my men into pigs. PIGS. Had a laugh.

  On the road/sea again. Heard about some sea monsters up by Sicily? Anybody else hear about this?

  @TheTemptations: Nice song girls, but we canʼt stop!@MyMen: Tie me tighter, hurry!

  Found sea monster: a billion-headed fucker who totally trashed my ship and killed all the crew. Getting sucked into a whirlpool now. Sigh.

  So Iʼm passed out after the accident, lying naked on some rock, and this girl shows up.

  Talk about embarrassing, this is worse than when we caught Achilles with his . . . cousin.

  These guys can help me, but their wine is MAAAAD strong. I havenʼt been this trashed since Junior Prom.

  Finally home. Everything good! Wait, who the fuck are these dudes hitting on Penelope?

  @Suitors: You have defiled my house, dishonored the gods, and tried to seduce my wife. TIME TO TASTE MY BLUE STEEL.

  Got my lady back thanks to the weird decorating we did. My son is now a man and not a sniveling bitch. All is well. Gosh I am a clever man!

  The Picture of Dorian Gray

  by Oscar Wilde

  @MajorLeagueAesthole

  Ah, the light of innocence! My young life! My dear friend Basil wishes to paint me. Ah, but I am so pretty.

  Portrait done, but Basil says I cannot see it. Too much of him in it.

  Iʼve met his friend Lord Henry. He arranged for me to have the portrait. He seems like a good man.

  Spending my days with Lord Henry. He has taught me wit and how to appreciate beauty. This can only improve my life, right?

  Sadly my beauty will one day cease. Perhaps I could preserve it by having the doc pull and staple the skin of my face? No. A silly thought.

  The portrait looks pretty good in my living room, but how I wish it could magically absorb my flaws so that I may be pretty forever.

  My wish came true! The portrait bears the grimace of my malice. Must hide it in my attic. Fantastic! Who said that art was useless?

  At the theater. The girl playing Juliet is the best Iʼve ever seen. I think I shall seduce her. After all, I am so very pretty.

  Funny: women are the bane of menʼs lives. Loving me has made her acting terrible. Art or life: choose! Except me, I can have both.

  @Sibyl: Itʼs over. I donʼt care who knows. Your acting is dreadful now, and I cannot live with a trivial woman. She killed herself. Typical!

  People seem put off by my self-absorption. But I canʼt help but tell the truth about my excellence! It is important to be earnest, isnʼt it?

  Sorry. I have been away. Got caught up in a sweet book about textiles. If I am so beautiful, my house should be as well!

  Time goes on. I have become so decadent. Anyone ever tried opium? Itʼs quite dreamy, especially when there are no consequences.

  Basil refuses to speak to me. Even Lord Henry thinks I have become too corrupt. But how could I be corrupt with a face like this?

  Decades and decades of terrible beauty! I live an everlasting and wonderful life, replete with lovers and objects of aesthetic quality.

  Basil has seen the portrait. Being a true friend, I stabbed him in the front, and then blackmailed a queer chemist into burning the body.

  Sibylʼs brother tried to kill me. Tricked him. He was ʻaccidentallyʼ shot. Dorian: a million; social mores: zero. Phil Spector: forget it.

  It is too much! I must destroy the portrait. Now I prepare to age like a normal man . . .

  Oops. Grew old all at once! Oh, the aestheteʼs life was a grand one, but one cannot escape morality and mortality in the end. Beauty is danger!

  Of course, whosoever understands my tale will refrain from excess and flaunting social norms in their own life. Donʼt you think?

  The Sorrows of Young Werther

  by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  @SourKraut

  Charming new town. I will finally be able to relax and be free of my troubles.

  Met a new girl today! Need to avoid being trapped in the friend zone this time.

  Lotte is my soulmate. Spent all day gazing at her. We even exchanged words. Nothing could persuade me that we are not meant to be together.

  She is engaged to some dweeb named Albert. What kind of a name is Al?

  This engagement has made me so sad. I thought our love would be pure! I sulk, I sulk. Woe is me.

  Truly, I am so sad. I am overcome with despair. I feel nothing but sorrow.

  Have I noted how upset I am? I am very upset. #pain #angst #suffering #sexdep

  Must skip town for a bit and visit a friend. Create a plan to break off her engagement. Sheʼll still be here when I get back.

  Horrible! Horrible! Made a fool of myself before the whole aristocracy. Nothing in my life goes well! If only it could end.

  Ach! I leave town for TWO DAYS and Lotte gets MARRIED? Does this mean my chances just got worse?

  Much worse. No bookie would touch it. Woe is me. Consumed by a great sadness that I wonder if Iʼve made clear enough yet.

  D Lotte: Can I still visit you every day? If not I donʼt know WHAT I MIGHT DO. Not to scare you or anything.

  My tears drown the whole Earth. This iPhone is drenched. How can a man in love restrain himself ? Passion demands a dry outlet!

  Though it pains me, I have become good friends with Lotte and Albert. Anything to stay close to her . . . so very close to her . . .

  So Iʼm a bit of a whack job. Good thing no oneʼs heard of restraining orders - or stalking - in all of Prussia. Otherwise out of luck.