(no subject)
Her room was a mess, but she liked it that way. It was dark, too dark some of her friends would say. But she liked it like that. It was like her brain-a mess and dark-but she was able to sift through it all. She knew where everything was, or approximately where. Every now and then light would shine into her room. Blinding, painful light, but there was light. There was an African Violet near her window. It was at one time red and white, now it's only white. She liked that too. It was unexpected, and the white made the flowers look daintier than they were. It was like her. People always assumed she was innocent and dainty-and then she would open her mouth-their mouths would drop. She could cuss like a sailor, and said what was on her mind most of the time. Under her window a table filled with plants, it looked like a mini-greenhouse. They were wild and grew everywhere, they made her feel like she was outside when sh got stuck in her room.
There was a manikin torso on another table with the mardi gras beads she had gotten in New Orleans before the flood. It was the torso of a male, and was next to her bed. She figured it was the only guy she'd ever get and be willing to keep. Behind him was a picture of a Church. She didn't know what church, and she didn't know why she liked it so much. She hated Church. But the picture was oil, and dark. That's what drew her to it. In it can be seen a cross, maybe a graveyard behind it, but she wasn't sure. Another reason she liked it, there was a mystery behind it.
Her new jeans were lying on her bed, and bras were strewn wherever they had fallen or, more than likely, been thrown. Her chair had all of her clothes on it, and her desk looked like a bomb had exploded on it. A small green plate was next to her where she left the butts of her cigars to burn out, unbeknownst to her parents. She was technically an adult, but still lived with her parents. There was always music playing in her room, just like in her mind. She saw a bottle of headache and cramp medicine, the stuff you take when the evil curse comes around. She was down to one dose, it worked great on headaches. She contemplated taking the remaining dose, but decided the pain was needed, for a bit at least.
She knew it was the desk lamp that was causing it, but did nothing about it. Sometimes she liked the pain. She also sometimes enjoyed having a tidy room, and therefore a tidy thought process. But that never lasted long and soon books would fall onto the floor to mingle and fornicate with her clothes. She liked that idea. She liked things a mess.
There was a manikin torso on another table with the mardi gras beads she had gotten in New Orleans before the flood. It was the torso of a male, and was next to her bed. She figured it was the only guy she'd ever get and be willing to keep. Behind him was a picture of a Church. She didn't know what church, and she didn't know why she liked it so much. She hated Church. But the picture was oil, and dark. That's what drew her to it. In it can be seen a cross, maybe a graveyard behind it, but she wasn't sure. Another reason she liked it, there was a mystery behind it.
Her new jeans were lying on her bed, and bras were strewn wherever they had fallen or, more than likely, been thrown. Her chair had all of her clothes on it, and her desk looked like a bomb had exploded on it. A small green plate was next to her where she left the butts of her cigars to burn out, unbeknownst to her parents. She was technically an adult, but still lived with her parents. There was always music playing in her room, just like in her mind. She saw a bottle of headache and cramp medicine, the stuff you take when the evil curse comes around. She was down to one dose, it worked great on headaches. She contemplated taking the remaining dose, but decided the pain was needed, for a bit at least.
She knew it was the desk lamp that was causing it, but did nothing about it. Sometimes she liked the pain. She also sometimes enjoyed having a tidy room, and therefore a tidy thought process. But that never lasted long and soon books would fall onto the floor to mingle and fornicate with her clothes. She liked that idea. She liked things a mess.