Free Twitterature by Alexander Aciman Page A

changes in the American Sou—ooohhh, a fire!
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    @Compson-OG
    Though I escaped the South where my dying family drove me mad, Harvard remains a terrible and dreary place.
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    Also, why wonʼt that watch stop ticking? Who needs watches? Doesnʼt everyone just count time in their head constantly like me?
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    Canʼt help believing Iʼll never truly escape my roots. My fatherʼs voice in my head. Reductio ad absurdum my fucking ass.
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    The image of other menʼs dicks in my sister also plagues me. So many dicks in my dear, dear sister.
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    Did I set her straight when the young man who knocked her up beat me up? If I could restore her virginity by will alone. Oh. Time for class.
    Told father that we had committed incest. He refuses to believe me. At least I tell a tale better than my idiot brother Benjy.
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    Madness comes anyway as my mind rambles through thoughts of all the dicks in my dear sister. Also my own terror and neurosis.
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    The eye. The terrible eye. To Maine I go to escape Cambridge, and the dicks. The dicks. I must protect the women!
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    I keep forgetting to go to class. Impossible to focus on geometry with my sisterʼs innocence angling through my head.
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    I canʼt express myself. Iʼm worse than Benjy in some ways. Perhaps thatʼs irony. Donʼt know. Didnʼt go to class.
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    Mind fogged. Can think only about the tragedy of the Southern family. We are all mad in our own way. Where are those flat irons?
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    @Jas-Z
    Iʼm surrounded by fools whose lives signify nothing. Dead father, suicidal brother, whore sister. My mother loves me and only me.
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    Time to get those Negroes working. It seems their family is on the rise, as ours moves ever closer to the grave.
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    @Dilsdo
    Easter Sunday. Maybe finally find peace with these old crazy people. Taking Benjy with me to Church.
    Oh God, this shit will never end. Crying and crying and the sound and the fury!
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    Everything has settled. Weʼll just go out for a nice Sunday ride in the carriage. Fuck. Took a wrong turn. Wailing and wailing. Epic fail.

The Story of My Life
    by Helen Keller

    The great tragedy of my life was when my dog jumped off a cliff because he had a ridiculous name.
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    Of this I was unaware, for I could not hear. The whole world sounded absurd, if you consider abysmal silence and eternal void absurd.
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    I constantly misbehaved, and disobeyed my parents. Little did they know I could not hear them. They mistook deafness for impertinence.
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    They wrote me notes. They yelled at me. They brought down right and proper discipline, but it was all a loss!
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    The truth dawned on them: I was both deaf and blind.
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    What a perfect storm of inconveniences. Itʼs like a comedy of errors!
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    They punished me by rearranging the furniture, putting plungers in the toilet, and placing doorknobs on the walls.
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    I sustained a serious accident when I was ten, when I picked up the waffle iron. I burned my face even worse when they called back.
    WHO IS THIS WOMAN WHO KEEPS PUTTING MY HANDS IN MY MOUTH. A PEDERAST? CAN SHE NOT HEAR ME SCREAM? I CANʼT.
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    Of course I canʼt drive: not because Iʼm deaf, or blind, but because Iʼm a woman.
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    People often confuse me with Anne Frank.
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    This led to the best Ê»Overcoming Adversityʼ essay. The result: a blind, deaf, illiterate woman got into Harvard. And so did I.
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    I believe the admissions officer thought I was ethnically diverse. You know: black. Or a