(no subject)
On the way home we listened to such punk rock classics. The stereo jumped from Black Flag to Reagan Youth to the Descendents. I was drunk and played disoriented and invisible drums while I drove. Curtis kept cool and imitated smoking a cigarette. I pretended and played, and faked putting a gun to the gas station attendant's throat. I totally pretended to scream threats into his face and Curt totally acted like someone who was taking cash out of a register and shoving it into a blood-stained cotton bag. We were totally faking it despite the part where we blew someone’s brains out against rows of labeled, unsold cigarette packs. We were actors when we arrived at our safeway and bathed ourselves in dirty money. I called my girl to share the good news and she was just pissed at me for a few missed calls. I can’t seem to remember to call her at the right times. I just want to keep us right, I just want our boat to stay afloat. At times, it can be hard to be me yet when she lays back and beside me, it feels so much easier. Temperatures rise as I fill with hate but her kisses keep me feeling cool. I’m in love and so is she and it is hopefully with me. And if you can’t relate than you can choke on how well I spit it out for you. Because I’m trying so hard to make you understand. To breathe her in, is to cure a respiratory disorder. The simple smell of her shampoo ties together heart strings. Tonight I’ve been pranked, got thanked, went blank, and now all that is left is to walk the plank just to jump into an endless sleep that is so deep that I’ll forget any promises I’ve meant to keep. I have cuts on my knuckles from getting dressed. I have rumours spread about me that are too typical to confess. Everyone is out to steal our shine. It may be the 23rd of April but I remember Hitler’s birthday a few days ago. Just another day to some, an anniversary to one. Klebold wanted the walls to be red, and Harris came along. Nobody wants do die alone. Nobody wants to die unforgotten. “Sixteen in the clip and one in the hole.” I am about to make some bodies turn cold. Watch out pop singer and talk show host. Watch out governor and senator. Watch out celebrity and president. Your fame grows old as my aim stays cold. On your fucking forehead, right between your eyes. Unwrap your present. It’s a bullet in your brain. Steve Miller is on my mind, and he's singing that I should just take the money and run.