i feel fine. |
2002-11-18 - 9:23 p.m.
i'm getting used to going into houses i've never been in. meeting people i'll never see again.
lost in neighborhoods that are not my own.
we don't stay long. just long enough to get it and pay. figure in time to walk in the door, offer up some obligatory greeting, wait till someone finds a baggie, pay, and walk out the door. that simple.
seems these people have been smoking too long. they repeat themselves over and again. or maybe they just don't care.
driving around smoking becomes one big mess of deja vu. because you think you've driven here like this before, but you can't really remember for certain. it feels old, but is it? it feels new, but it's probably not. after a while it doesn't matter, because you're seeing robots in the road, you're staring at the lights like you've never seen any before and talking about the second coming of the lord. every song you hear on the radio becomes your favorite and ideas such as licking the upholstery seem fucking brilliant. or maybe i make a bad pothead.
but that night we smoked a blunt in the front seat before going to this party.
driving on narrow backroads in the rain is difficult enough in the daylight when you're giving it your undivided attention. but at night, high, not knowing where you are or where you're supposed to end up - that's worse. sure, we had a map. two, actually. but we got lost. a lot.
we found this house and we went in this house. such congenial hosts. such alcohol. such drugs. two seconds i was there before there was a drink in my hand. and the refills were free. ha. i lost count of everything. in this living room surrounded by strangers, but wedged in between friends, i was in love.
it became so that i couldn't open a door without ending up in a closet. my shots didn't end up in my glass anymore and i smoked so much that my eyes were vibrating in their sockets. a cat jumped at my head, i shared cigarettes with a nice hippy and a girl with a mohawk told me about me. i understand that i went to the bathroom roughly thirty times and once i stood in front of the closed refrigerator for a good half hour. there was radiohead in the background.
but it wasn't over.
we left several hours later to go to a dorm at a college i swear i'll never go to but will ultimately end up at anyway. i think a movie was playing, but i was laying on the floor with my coat over my head. it must've been bad because they asked if i was okay multiple times before taking my lighter away.
we smoked another blunt. this time in the bathroom. the door shut, the water running to help with the smell. it was hot anyway, but add the smoke and add steam from the hot water [no cold available]. after a few hits, i was holding onto the towel rack for my fucking life. by the time it was gone, there was so much smoke/steam in there that i couldn't see anything. there was a significant rise in sexual hormone raging, a significant drop in clothing on our bodies.
we put on donnie darko and i layed down in the floor with him. we watched the movie's beginning and this is where it gets blurry.
but this one part i'm not going to forget. because i asked if he was going to sleep and he said probably and he asked if i was going to sleep and i said unless i have a good reason not to and
he got on top of me.
he tasted like pot and he felt like
he felt like
he felt like perfection. we passed hours like this. every once in a while, more clothes would pile beside us on the floor. we tried to be quiet since there were others here too, but it's difficult when
there's this boy melting into you
bent on making you feel
making you feel
feel like perfection.
so i kissed him and let my moans go directly into his lungs.
my mouth was smiling.
my heart was really going at it.
so were we.
time passed |way too|extremely|really|very|fast.
clothes were found. we watched each other intently. naked bodies are so different than bodies in blockbuster uniforms. clothes were put back on.
i went to sleep for about thirty minutes on my elbows.
it's now monday night and i still have carpet burn on my knees and elbows. i'm sore in places i just can't understand and there's the faint remainder of "PORn" written on my left arm.
sometimes things are just so okay that it makes the bad seem almost worth it.
|newest older profile notes design host|