Бойцовский клуб

           There’sasleeperholdthatgivessomebodyjustenoughairtostayawake, andthatnightatfightclubIhitourfirst-timerandhammeredthatbeautifulmisterangelface, firstwiththebonyknucklesofmyfistlikeapoundingmolar, andthentheknottedtightbuttofmyfistaftermyknuckleswererawfromhisteethstuckthroughhislips. ThentheI,idfellthroughmyarmsinaheap. 

           Tylertoldmelaterthathe’dneverseenmedestroysomethingsocompletely. Thatnight,Tylerknewhehadtotakefightclubupanotchorshutitdown. 

           Tylersaid,sittingatbreakfastthenextmorning, "Youlookedlikeamaniac,Psycho-Boy.Wheredidyougo?" 

           IsaidIfeltlikecrapandnotrelaxedatall. Ididn’tgetanykindofnbuzz. MaybeI’ddevelopedaJones. Youcanbuildupatolerancetofighting,andmaybeIneededtomoveontosomethingbigger. 

           Itwasthatmorning,TylerinventedProjectMayhem. 

           TyleraskedwhatIwasreallyfighting. 

           WhatTylersaysaboutbeingthecrapandtheslavesofhistory,that’showIfelt. IwantedtodestroyeverythingbeautifulI’dneverhave. BurntheAmazonrainforests. Pumpchlorofluorocarbonsstraightuptogobbletheozone. Openthedumpvalvesonsupertankersanduncapoffshoreoilwells. IwantedtokillallthefishIcouldn’taffordtoeat, andsmothertheFrenchbeachesI’dneversee. 

           Iwantedthewholeworldtohitbottom.