fear and loathing on the corner of park and charlotte
It's flying fists and broken hearts and alcohol and just never enough time for anything, so we're always trying to live life at twice the speed we know we should be, and when that kid throws Jerry down on the sidewalk I find myself thinking, "I thought the sound of bodies slamming on concrete is louder than that." The foley artists have us fooled -- there are no KA-BLAM's or BIFF's or SPLAT's rolling across the screen tonight, just a 6-foot Puerto Rican with a complacent grin coming up to me and Joe, saying, "You hit my nigger, man. You hit my nigger."
You know how when you stand in the middle of an empty field and scream and scream and expect catharsis, but your voice is swallowed by the wind, and you are quiet, and you are suddenly so so small. The scuffling sounds like leaves rustling, the engine of the car patiently waiting for us to stop blocking the road is a pleasant hum, and I don't even notice the blood on my lip until the Honey Farms clerk points it out.
Everything should have been so much louder.
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Jerry refuses to come in the house. Just let me smoke a cigarette, man, he says, I just gotta smoke a cigarette by myself. Just let me sit out here for a minute. Just let me think.
Get the fuck inside, says Joe.
Jerry says, No.
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Jerry says, "I'm sorry."
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Jerry says, "I'm sorry," and looks into my eyes, directly in and just straight through the door ma'am, and holds my gaze so I know that he means it. But he knows that we've already forgiven him -- it's just easier to keep apologizing to us than to forgive himself.
You know how when you stand in the middle of an empty field and scream and scream and expect catharsis, but your voice is swallowed by the wind, and you are quiet, and you are suddenly so so small. The scuffling sounds like leaves rustling, the engine of the car patiently waiting for us to stop blocking the road is a pleasant hum, and I don't even notice the blood on my lip until the Honey Farms clerk points it out.
Everything should have been so much louder.
+
Jerry refuses to come in the house. Just let me smoke a cigarette, man, he says, I just gotta smoke a cigarette by myself. Just let me sit out here for a minute. Just let me think.
Get the fuck inside, says Joe.
Jerry says, No.
+
Jerry says, "I'm sorry."
+
Jerry says, "I'm sorry," and looks into my eyes, directly in and just straight through the door ma'am, and holds my gaze so I know that he means it. But he knows that we've already forgiven him -- it's just easier to keep apologizing to us than to forgive himself.