...oh no, i thought i was free to go into free-flowing splatter and have reckless fun, but a part of me just died again
Now Kirsten at that time was her best friend. They were always arm and arm in the mornings, it was cute. They were both cute. Kirsten was also my best friend...how should I say this without sounding too gay...She was also my best girl friend. We talked practically every day for a good hour in the evenings on my personal social phone. That was a good social phone. I had a lot of heated arguments with classmates about our favorite bands, and lots of three-way prank calls. Call-waiting was new and very exciting. Anyway, Kirsten liked Tim, my good friend, coolest guy I knew, and I was like a Milhouse for her friend. So we would talk about things like that, although I can't imagine how much about things like that we could actually say. Gradually my affections shifted from her friend to Kirsten. Eventually my passion for Sara fizzled out, I guess, whether due to my lack of tact and emotional maturity , or I ran out of ways to be her dog. I remember one time after lunch before her class, she asked me to carry her books to her class out of the blue. Oh man! Carry her books to the other side of the school? Out in the bungalows? Do you know what this means? Oh man, everybody knew. Everybody we passed knew; everybody knew that my class was over there and hers is here, and I'm carrying her books! Kevin Arnold started narrating in my head. I was fired up all weekend. I thought about nothing else but the possibilities—possibilities? The future that lay ahead, just over that weekend hump. I was gonna get that varsety jacket—I mean, the girl of my dreamsah dammit! you're a wounded fly arn't you? what the hell do you expect me to do?
i guess the thoughts are fighting again, and i just try to stay out of it and get drunk
but for a moment it hit me how useless and alone, and im not drunk enough
but i had a cute anecdote relating to me and my sister sharing a room in grade school and how that influenced my musical taste (it took her like 2 weeks to explain to me how the lead singer of Nirvana could be dead but he's on the radio right now! I was really dumb back then. and then one summer i decided i was obsessed with Nirvana so I bought enough bootleg tshirts of theirs and wore a nirvana shirt everyday for full school year—some of those shirts were really tasteless cause they would print his sucide note on the back of the shirt. I didn't realize it at the time. I stopped taking showers, I wore my grandma's cardigans, I ripped my jeans and tried to dirty my shoes, tried to kill myself a couple times, once with advil to try to get the attention of a girl, I threw it up in Second Period in my grandma's cardigan and that thing was so white and clean that it stuck out and showed how foolish I was. She wouldn't have known about that—I mean what the hell am I freakin doing here? Obviously, I had to get news of the tragedy to her the next day...through her best friend. I was on my social phone that night with Kirsten. It's funny, I'm pretty sure I remember saying, "You mean you haven't told her yet?" And then she said, "Oh, should I?" And I didn't catch what she may or may not have accidentally implied, you know, cause I'm freakin building my tragedy here. I had that Marcy Playground lovesong from the radio in my head that night, the morning I woke up alive on my headphones—interestingly, that night after I took the pills, I had my first sexual dream I think, it was with her and we were in the water, I could smell her actual scent, the one when she sits by me in class,and...and we were doing it in my Doughboy in my backyard. I woke up very depressed, partly because of the dream, the song was in my head, partly because I was still alive, partly cause I took a lot of Advil, but mainly because I was misguided and dumb.
Oh, just a lint from my business socks.
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