Idek.

my impression of the deweys as a non-wild fan who passively absorbes information about them from my feed: they’re unhinged. they’re brothers. they’re in love. one of them is a submissive dog. one of them (both?) is rabid. one of them is being psychosexually tormented by flower but he’s into it he wants more of it. they’re blood brothers. they’re spit brothers. it’s unclear to me if they fuck each other or just get mindfucked by flower. they could be good at hockey or they could be pathetic sopping wet losers who fold under the slightest pressure I really have no way of knowing. they’re wolves. they’re stray dogs. they bite bite bite. they’re idiots. totally illiterate. possibly from florida. they have never known tenderness. they are impossibly tender with each other. they are but puppets dancing on flower’s string. I cannot stress enough how much they cannot read. they are twins. they are lovers. they are two bottoms in search of a top. they are so stupid they will live forever. neither of them is named dewey.

really strange how you can be almost at peace with something that happened to you but it will continue to be a defining moment of your life for the rest of your life. you wont think about it much anymore but in a conversation about a film someone will mention the year it was released and you’ll think to yourself, “that was before it happened” and you’ll see an old photo and think how strange it is to have existed before it happened and somehow it’s like living a life in two acts