11:55 p.m. / April 17, 2005 - -
still sick
"oh my god, there's my shirt". that phrase stuck out. she called me, and i'm on the phone with her right now, as i'm typing this. my nose is all plugged up and i keep complaining about it. i hate how it makes me feel. she tells me, 'i'm in a spa right now'. i think, she means she's in a jacuzzi; a hot tub, okay. she says, 'the best orgasm i've ever had was in a spa, th' and i interrupt her here, saying, 'yeah. jets'. says she, 'my friend had one installed. you can set them so high, i swear i came in like five seconds'. not ver-batim, but close. we talk about hawaii for a little bit. she says, 'i wanted to call you the other day and have a phonewank'. and well, that's something we did before i went to vegas. before i travelled across the country with the specific intent of meeting her. i liked to masturbate. she did. so, we did it on the phone together. and a few days ago, she wanted to again. that's what that means. i check her e-mail for her and succeed in refraining from the temptation of reading through messages. maybe i don't care as much anymore. or maybe i'm actually wise enough to know better now. but i am curious, always curious, always ready to read more and see more. i could stop and scan the ground, check to see where the mines are planted, but instead i just run and hope for the best.
saw the girl mentioned here again, tonight; seems like every day now and i like it this way. she has a name. it's brenna. we played tic-tac-toe in the dirt twice. i let her win the second time. i tried to make a chess board in the dirt but my coordination was lacking. after sitting on a dock planted firmly on land for half an hour, no water on any immediate side, i brought her home. then i went to lindstrom with no plan in mind. i sat in a church parking lot for half an hour trying to think of what to do, sending out text messages to people, asking if they were in town, trying to fight the boredom somehow. i ended up abandoning my car at a video store and walking around for another half an hour. i bought a misty slush at a dairy queen and layed on top of a picnic table while sipping it. one of the people, the friend i walked with the other night called me. he'd be there as soon as he got changed. we walked around again. to the high school, armed with chalk, we vandalized a stone circle in the courtyard. a picture of a whale with wings. a bird with orange hair. what looks like a burning pipe. hopped the fence to the football field and sat up in the bleachers, then went down to the track and laid on the mat. i wanted to fall asleep there, wake up the next morning to a class of startled kids in a physical education course. on the way back to our cars, we stopped to draw chalk outlines of eachother in driveways. a whole street, nearly, of bodies in the middle of driveways. messages like, "go back to mexico!" and "no jews!" sometimes accompanying them. i'd feel bad if i didn't know that the people who lived there were anything but swedish, christian.
and then this girl called me, and we talked, and it felt over. sad, like the marrow has been sucked out of it and we're just a shell now, trying to look like we have it together when really, collapse is just around the corner.
|
|
|
