it's always a battle between who gets the last word and who leaves the other holding their dick
even in a dream, we would drive in awkward silence. the temptation of confrontation would be utterly one-sided and our hopes would be tenuous at best. we would avoid eye contact and pretend that there were far more interesting things out on the road. in order to validate the avoidance of locking eyes it would be necessary to mask our intentions with a coat of vehement sincerity.
"we are more real than any poor fuckers who have ever lived before us."
who needs old reflexes and comfort actions when we have pretension and enough self-awareness to choke all of the blissfully ignorant into submission, right?
anyway.
using the possessive determiner of the personal pronoun "we" is far too optimistic for this situation. i'll quit it and start speaking about that which i know - myself. i will be reminded of how rarely i feel this awkward for so long without excusing myself from the situation. but in a dream, we drive. i can't just leave the car in this dream, because the whole point is how long the discomfort can be endured and how i'll get in the car every time, expecting the past to be a loop that exists in that neglected car, because it has held so many of my teenage memories.
this is half-finished, but it's helping to relieve pressure against my lungs. so bear the fuck with me.
"we are more real than any poor fuckers who have ever lived before us."
who needs old reflexes and comfort actions when we have pretension and enough self-awareness to choke all of the blissfully ignorant into submission, right?
anyway.
using the possessive determiner of the personal pronoun "we" is far too optimistic for this situation. i'll quit it and start speaking about that which i know - myself. i will be reminded of how rarely i feel this awkward for so long without excusing myself from the situation. but in a dream, we drive. i can't just leave the car in this dream, because the whole point is how long the discomfort can be endured and how i'll get in the car every time, expecting the past to be a loop that exists in that neglected car, because it has held so many of my teenage memories.
this is half-finished, but it's helping to relieve pressure against my lungs. so bear the fuck with me.