My heart breaking night- I may lose some friends after this post.
All night I just sat around. Half hanging out of a damp cushioned chair that
was rotting from semi-exposure to the elements. It was one of the main seats
in the "smoking room" and my ass was rooted to it. One hand barely
grasping a nasty cigarette, its smoke piling up in my chest cutting
off my air, its nicotine making my hands shake even more than they
already were.
I just sat there. Heavy and light at the same time. I had dressed up
for this occasion. I had worn my new "little black dress" soft and
short. I had a pretty necklace on. Makeup. Styled hair- perfume. But instead
of looking all dolled up, I probably looked more like what I was feeling.
These "goth" "kids" all around me. Sweet people, really. They're all
good hearted (if you don't tick off one of their angry multi-
personalities). They stick together like family: brothers, sisters...
Very sweet people. Adorable nerds. There was a group around me engaged
in some debate, the girl I came with, (to avoid using names, let's call her Girl A) was heavily involved. One was even
"a professional debater", sure, he was impressive with his skills. The others were able to counter with their arguments and points, sure... I applaud them for the reason that they did actually know what they were getting into when jumping in the
debate- they sort of knew their shit. But it just kept going around and around
in circles, each flexing their little pasty goth muscle at the other. That
was fun I guess... Until one would take the lead of the attention with
some completely cliche topic, like for example, say "time"... Then another
would latch on with some insult, like for example, say defying what one
knows about physics... But really the extent of the content was all together
utterly cliched and said a hundred times before that we've all heard. Only
these assumed social rejects had so much spunk and vigor behind their words.
In the middle of this fest I couldn't help but count my blessings in my
total boredom. That these people I were around, getting drunk and
yelling back and forth at each other, in fact were sounding a hell of a lot more intelligible than say most any other cluster of folk in town doing the same thing. Yes, I was glad to be bored and wasting my time with this cluster of folk.
I stayed slumped in my chair gazing around. Every now and then offering
my two cents, but alas... I didn't have the goth-dork pheromone to
attract their senses in my direction, even though I was at the top of
the food chain of any real sense.
A few guys hit on me. All nervous as shit. Swapping MySpace addresses.
Throwing tid-bits of sexual advancements. Like some kind of lower life
form reaching up and grasping onto whatever their knuckles could hook
into. They were parasites and my estrogen was their host. Otherwise,
I'm sure they're just swell guys! They would come and go from my
chair like scavengers desperately searching for one sliver of meat to ravage.
Then an old friend of theirs arrived... I saw a spiritual hierarchy take place right before my glassy eyes! This girl upon arrival to the smoky patio was
like a priestess or goddess, so was her power! They all jumped up and
flocked to her side bombarding her with questions and praises and even
a "group hug". Most of the populace were bottom feeding minions greedy for attention from their goddess. It was cute. Then I began to see more and more of the base of this hierarchy- it was love. They all cared about her so much and just really loved her. It was a pretty great thing in the whole to witness. These minions were actually little baby birds greeting their momma back to
the nest, a moment of PURE kindness and love.
I was so lonely. Sure, I drove out with some people, two males who
wanted to fuck me and their uber-diva roommate to
get some mushrooms... Then while wondering around the house when we
got back was offered X. Sure? Why not. Why the fuck not. I'm as numb as can be already (and by that I mean metaphorically, kids). Why the fuck not. So then
that's when I really took on my adventure of just sitting. I'll bet a
lot of those Goths were thinking, "What's her problem? Is she so snobby
she can't make conversation with us?" These are the Goths across the
room of course, the ones out of my vocal range. So they're also
thinking, "She's all snobbish and too good for us and all anti-social
when I see her out around town too..." These are also the same
Goths I see out locally at their "goth club". No, really, it's a
redneck bar that they dubbed Fridays as "GOTH NIGHT" a.k.a. "The Dark Room"... Actually, I was always grateful it existed in this redneck town. I am thoroughly
amused they accomplished that feat in Arkansas. Congrats! Ya know? So
can't they just fucking see I'm actually quite fucking miserable
and beyond heartbroken, beyond despair? Can't they just see that I just
fucking suffer in my existence?! It's not you, you snobby clicky insecure paranoid Gothoids!!
IT'S ME!!!
So many people had their loved one, or fuck buddy, or slave or pet or whatever there with
them... All I could think about was Ryan. Then I began to daydream Ryan's voice cutting in to
the debates and wrapping the whole thing up in just one paragraph, even
sparking a new topic of even more controversy and interest up, and how I would just be sitting back like I was... reading his mind... smiling at him, conversing this debate silently, only him hearing me.
Then whilst oozing out of that smoke room chair, I'd take a drag, and realize I was there by myself. The shrums hit in for about twenty minutes. Nothing special at all. The ceiling glowed a little. Everything in my head vibrated subtly for about twenty minutes. No big deal. I should have been rolling as well. That NEVER hit in. Such disappointment for my chair-sitting escapade...
A thirty year old D&D scary-quiet-type of guy kept hitting on me while I
drew a little sketch of Ryan on a used piece of paper sitting on the table. Ryan, with his big bottom lip and dreadlocks. I wrote "Drunken Ode to Ryan" above the doodle.
I imagined him walking into the smoke room, laughing and carrying
on with someone, like he had just arrived, not expecting me to be there
at all. Then the image went blank. And I was back to reality with my
limp body and sore throat.
Then the drama unfolded. It began with some girl putting her cigarette out
on someone's car. She got kicked out but needed a ride home. So my DD
(Girl A) offered to take her home. While she was out, the "woman of the
house" (lets call her Girl B), became all paranoid and started hushing everyone at the
party to keep quiet, that we might get the cops called for noise
violation and she might get a $500 ticket. And I'm thinking to myself,
well don't have a fucking party (with DJ's at that) if you can't handle
it. It got to a point where she was taking the role of a catholic school
nun (dressed up in pseudo goth attire) making everyone feel like we're
in preschool at nap time. She was tripping out basically. So when she
demanded that no one leave the house for two hours- no, you weren't
allowed to go ANYWHERE no matter what! Because there was a cop
patrolling the neighborhood... People got agitated. Enough was enough.
If we began to chat, she'd come in to the patio and "hush" everyone.
She even used a stern motherly voice when she'd say "Lower your voices!
Keep it down I'm fucking serious!" She wouldn't let anyone leave with
a sober driver either, that was the clincher. My theory is that someone
got her high when they probably shouldn't have. But I kept my mouth
shut, because I just met these people, who am I to raise my alien voice up
against an uber-goth-bitch in her own house? These things just happen..
I was all cool in the pool. Good in the hood. Dandy in the panty. But I
noticed I was the only one relaxed about the situation. Everyone else
was balled up all nervous or about to explode with anger, like they
used to be at their mommies. Girl A disappointed me a little too. She
succumbed to their ridiculous drama. If I had had a car, I'd say good
night to everyone, told Girl B it was a pleasure, and that I AM LEAVING
NOW- "peace". Though this girl was getting very threatening when someone else
tried to do that very thing. But I would have proceeded to walk out the
door to my car. I am 21 or over, I am responsible for my damned self and
my damned car, g'night. Oh, and honey, you're thirty, it's okay for you to
throw a bash if the music meets city ordinance. Which it did, actually. You couldn't hear the mega base and rave-drone outside the house.
Then I came home. By myself. Buzzing a little from vodka, mushrooms,
and bunk X... And Ryan still won't answer his phone. Sprawled out
across my bed, weary and trashed yet completely sober- I call his
number over and over just so I can hear him say his name for his voice
mailbox. "Ryan" "Ryan" "Ryan". "You have reached the voice mail box for 'Ryan' which is full. To page this person, please press five. Goodbye."
Then I began to daydream again, tangled in pillows. I'm back in the chair at the party in my mind, and he walks into the room again like he was just arriving. Instantly I jump up and make everyone in the room jerk. This lifeless nonchalant slug of a drugged-out girl melting into her seat with a vacant stare,
springs up and onto this familiar looking guy- "Hey he's that tall guy
that used to have dreadlocks with that sleeve tattoo who I always see around." This lifeless girl is hooking her arms around his neck, clinging to him for life. Then he instantly pushes me off, disgusted. I drop down
to the floor flooded with tears and sobbing in a heap on the
floor where he dropped me, the girls, the baby birds, rushing to
coo and sooth me. Then he picks me up by my arms and no one else exists.
I'm crying and asking "WHY?!?!?" My eyes saying: why... why any of this heartache, this suffering, this hatred, this chaos, I just need him, it could be so simple... why did I ever hurt him, why did he ever hurt me why aren't we together now, why does he live so far away, what was the reason we aren't together, again?? Then he pulls me close to him.
So close. So hard and strong and tight.
He needs me again. He's squeezing me as hard as he can to his chest,
I'm trying to wrap my arms around him the best I can, struggling because I can't fuse my body into his, and then I lift my legs up around his hips. He's crying, like he used to when he held me like this. He's sobbing, he's holding the back of my head, no need to hold my legs up because I've got him.
And that's it. I go blank there. It came into my mind so naturally the
first time, I can retell it so easily because I keep trying to replay
it.
That's the real kind of goth drama isn't it?
So then when my tears died down somewhat, I thought maybe I should
record these moments. After all, it was a full harvest moon tonight.
Tonight was special somehow, maybe I'll want to read this and
remember everything some time in the future.
was rotting from semi-exposure to the elements. It was one of the main seats
in the "smoking room" and my ass was rooted to it. One hand barely
grasping a nasty cigarette, its smoke piling up in my chest cutting
off my air, its nicotine making my hands shake even more than they
already were.
I just sat there. Heavy and light at the same time. I had dressed up
for this occasion. I had worn my new "little black dress" soft and
short. I had a pretty necklace on. Makeup. Styled hair- perfume. But instead
of looking all dolled up, I probably looked more like what I was feeling.
These "goth" "kids" all around me. Sweet people, really. They're all
good hearted (if you don't tick off one of their angry multi-
personalities). They stick together like family: brothers, sisters...
Very sweet people. Adorable nerds. There was a group around me engaged
in some debate, the girl I came with, (to avoid using names, let's call her Girl A) was heavily involved. One was even
"a professional debater", sure, he was impressive with his skills. The others were able to counter with their arguments and points, sure... I applaud them for the reason that they did actually know what they were getting into when jumping in the
debate- they sort of knew their shit. But it just kept going around and around
in circles, each flexing their little pasty goth muscle at the other. That
was fun I guess... Until one would take the lead of the attention with
some completely cliche topic, like for example, say "time"... Then another
would latch on with some insult, like for example, say defying what one
knows about physics... But really the extent of the content was all together
utterly cliched and said a hundred times before that we've all heard. Only
these assumed social rejects had so much spunk and vigor behind their words.
In the middle of this fest I couldn't help but count my blessings in my
total boredom. That these people I were around, getting drunk and
yelling back and forth at each other, in fact were sounding a hell of a lot more intelligible than say most any other cluster of folk in town doing the same thing. Yes, I was glad to be bored and wasting my time with this cluster of folk.
I stayed slumped in my chair gazing around. Every now and then offering
my two cents, but alas... I didn't have the goth-dork pheromone to
attract their senses in my direction, even though I was at the top of
the food chain of any real sense.
A few guys hit on me. All nervous as shit. Swapping MySpace addresses.
Throwing tid-bits of sexual advancements. Like some kind of lower life
form reaching up and grasping onto whatever their knuckles could hook
into. They were parasites and my estrogen was their host. Otherwise,
I'm sure they're just swell guys! They would come and go from my
chair like scavengers desperately searching for one sliver of meat to ravage.
Then an old friend of theirs arrived... I saw a spiritual hierarchy take place right before my glassy eyes! This girl upon arrival to the smoky patio was
like a priestess or goddess, so was her power! They all jumped up and
flocked to her side bombarding her with questions and praises and even
a "group hug". Most of the populace were bottom feeding minions greedy for attention from their goddess. It was cute. Then I began to see more and more of the base of this hierarchy- it was love. They all cared about her so much and just really loved her. It was a pretty great thing in the whole to witness. These minions were actually little baby birds greeting their momma back to
the nest, a moment of PURE kindness and love.
I was so lonely. Sure, I drove out with some people, two males who
wanted to fuck me and their uber-diva roommate to
get some mushrooms... Then while wondering around the house when we
got back was offered X. Sure? Why not. Why the fuck not. I'm as numb as can be already (and by that I mean metaphorically, kids). Why the fuck not. So then
that's when I really took on my adventure of just sitting. I'll bet a
lot of those Goths were thinking, "What's her problem? Is she so snobby
she can't make conversation with us?" These are the Goths across the
room of course, the ones out of my vocal range. So they're also
thinking, "She's all snobbish and too good for us and all anti-social
when I see her out around town too..." These are also the same
Goths I see out locally at their "goth club". No, really, it's a
redneck bar that they dubbed Fridays as "GOTH NIGHT" a.k.a. "The Dark Room"... Actually, I was always grateful it existed in this redneck town. I am thoroughly
amused they accomplished that feat in Arkansas. Congrats! Ya know? So
can't they just fucking see I'm actually quite fucking miserable
and beyond heartbroken, beyond despair? Can't they just see that I just
fucking suffer in my existence?! It's not you, you snobby clicky insecure paranoid Gothoids!!
IT'S ME!!!
So many people had their loved one, or fuck buddy, or slave or pet or whatever there with
them... All I could think about was Ryan. Then I began to daydream Ryan's voice cutting in to
the debates and wrapping the whole thing up in just one paragraph, even
sparking a new topic of even more controversy and interest up, and how I would just be sitting back like I was... reading his mind... smiling at him, conversing this debate silently, only him hearing me.
Then whilst oozing out of that smoke room chair, I'd take a drag, and realize I was there by myself. The shrums hit in for about twenty minutes. Nothing special at all. The ceiling glowed a little. Everything in my head vibrated subtly for about twenty minutes. No big deal. I should have been rolling as well. That NEVER hit in. Such disappointment for my chair-sitting escapade...
A thirty year old D&D scary-quiet-type of guy kept hitting on me while I
drew a little sketch of Ryan on a used piece of paper sitting on the table. Ryan, with his big bottom lip and dreadlocks. I wrote "Drunken Ode to Ryan" above the doodle.
I imagined him walking into the smoke room, laughing and carrying
on with someone, like he had just arrived, not expecting me to be there
at all. Then the image went blank. And I was back to reality with my
limp body and sore throat.
Then the drama unfolded. It began with some girl putting her cigarette out
on someone's car. She got kicked out but needed a ride home. So my DD
(Girl A) offered to take her home. While she was out, the "woman of the
house" (lets call her Girl B), became all paranoid and started hushing everyone at the
party to keep quiet, that we might get the cops called for noise
violation and she might get a $500 ticket. And I'm thinking to myself,
well don't have a fucking party (with DJ's at that) if you can't handle
it. It got to a point where she was taking the role of a catholic school
nun (dressed up in pseudo goth attire) making everyone feel like we're
in preschool at nap time. She was tripping out basically. So when she
demanded that no one leave the house for two hours- no, you weren't
allowed to go ANYWHERE no matter what! Because there was a cop
patrolling the neighborhood... People got agitated. Enough was enough.
If we began to chat, she'd come in to the patio and "hush" everyone.
She even used a stern motherly voice when she'd say "Lower your voices!
Keep it down I'm fucking serious!" She wouldn't let anyone leave with
a sober driver either, that was the clincher. My theory is that someone
got her high when they probably shouldn't have. But I kept my mouth
shut, because I just met these people, who am I to raise my alien voice up
against an uber-goth-bitch in her own house? These things just happen..
I was all cool in the pool. Good in the hood. Dandy in the panty. But I
noticed I was the only one relaxed about the situation. Everyone else
was balled up all nervous or about to explode with anger, like they
used to be at their mommies. Girl A disappointed me a little too. She
succumbed to their ridiculous drama. If I had had a car, I'd say good
night to everyone, told Girl B it was a pleasure, and that I AM LEAVING
NOW- "peace". Though this girl was getting very threatening when someone else
tried to do that very thing. But I would have proceeded to walk out the
door to my car. I am 21 or over, I am responsible for my damned self and
my damned car, g'night. Oh, and honey, you're thirty, it's okay for you to
throw a bash if the music meets city ordinance. Which it did, actually. You couldn't hear the mega base and rave-drone outside the house.
Then I came home. By myself. Buzzing a little from vodka, mushrooms,
and bunk X... And Ryan still won't answer his phone. Sprawled out
across my bed, weary and trashed yet completely sober- I call his
number over and over just so I can hear him say his name for his voice
mailbox. "Ryan" "Ryan" "Ryan". "You have reached the voice mail box for 'Ryan' which is full. To page this person, please press five. Goodbye."
Then I began to daydream again, tangled in pillows. I'm back in the chair at the party in my mind, and he walks into the room again like he was just arriving. Instantly I jump up and make everyone in the room jerk. This lifeless nonchalant slug of a drugged-out girl melting into her seat with a vacant stare,
springs up and onto this familiar looking guy- "Hey he's that tall guy
that used to have dreadlocks with that sleeve tattoo who I always see around." This lifeless girl is hooking her arms around his neck, clinging to him for life. Then he instantly pushes me off, disgusted. I drop down
to the floor flooded with tears and sobbing in a heap on the
floor where he dropped me, the girls, the baby birds, rushing to
coo and sooth me. Then he picks me up by my arms and no one else exists.
I'm crying and asking "WHY?!?!?" My eyes saying: why... why any of this heartache, this suffering, this hatred, this chaos, I just need him, it could be so simple... why did I ever hurt him, why did he ever hurt me why aren't we together now, why does he live so far away, what was the reason we aren't together, again?? Then he pulls me close to him.
So close. So hard and strong and tight.
He needs me again. He's squeezing me as hard as he can to his chest,
I'm trying to wrap my arms around him the best I can, struggling because I can't fuse my body into his, and then I lift my legs up around his hips. He's crying, like he used to when he held me like this. He's sobbing, he's holding the back of my head, no need to hold my legs up because I've got him.
And that's it. I go blank there. It came into my mind so naturally the
first time, I can retell it so easily because I keep trying to replay
it.
That's the real kind of goth drama isn't it?
So then when my tears died down somewhat, I thought maybe I should
record these moments. After all, it was a full harvest moon tonight.
Tonight was special somehow, maybe I'll want to read this and
remember everything some time in the future.