(no subject)
I'm sitting here and my fingernail is bleeding, slightly. I roll back a few years, months, and all of it is someone screaming, "You'll be my friend! I will make you my friend! I'm not letting go!" and years, months after it ships out and yeah. Yeah, it was nice while it lasted. As are most things that fade, that get flattened by circumstance and time. Days out on the lake, smelling like battered fish and dishwater. Looking out there when the water turned rose, when my face turned rose in situations. Two bands from across the Atlantic and none of them have made anything else (until the 10th. The other one probably won't for some time). The new air has been long forgotten, to a degree. I can still take some of it, but my oblivious grip has lost itself.
Not a problem, really!
Since then things have been a mess. I'm taking my time and why am I bleeding so slighlty? Nobody else notices, and there is this Greek man. The Greek man is talking and she's nodding without paying attention. He has thin white hair. An obvious nose pointed outward and lips that bulge like ripe onions. The waitress tells him to turn around, so apparently he is a regular at the place. Ten minutes afterwards, he is slumped over in his stool, moving in timid pace. Some ancient growth and back, hours earlier I'm in arms and seconds later I'm out of arms. Seconds later I'm in bodies and seconds later I'm out of bodies. Strobe lights and loose wristbands staring out, deadfaced with a smile in my mind; I'm moving, I'm moving when I like to and of course I'm moving with a dead stare and a hiccup in my skull, only once, and then I resume only to find another dead stare and of course, of course she's too tall.
Not a problem, really!
Since then things have been a mess. I'm taking my time and why am I bleeding so slighlty? Nobody else notices, and there is this Greek man. The Greek man is talking and she's nodding without paying attention. He has thin white hair. An obvious nose pointed outward and lips that bulge like ripe onions. The waitress tells him to turn around, so apparently he is a regular at the place. Ten minutes afterwards, he is slumped over in his stool, moving in timid pace. Some ancient growth and back, hours earlier I'm in arms and seconds later I'm out of arms. Seconds later I'm in bodies and seconds later I'm out of bodies. Strobe lights and loose wristbands staring out, deadfaced with a smile in my mind; I'm moving, I'm moving when I like to and of course I'm moving with a dead stare and a hiccup in my skull, only once, and then I resume only to find another dead stare and of course, of course she's too tall.