Life As I Know It

“…been waiting for a dream to seep in through my blinds.” ((This Time — Jonathan Rhys Meyers))

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I’ve been getting random bursts of writing lately, here’s some pieces.

Nail Polish

What a great way to celebrate being a day older.

I watch cars zoom by on the busy street as my feet swing – pulling and pumping. I feel the rain drizzle down my makeup-covered, trying-to-hide-my-true-skin face as my friend chatters – joking and laughing. I feel dirt and mud and sand between my toes – this better make a good fucking exfoliate or I swear to God I’ll cut her for making me walk through sand, dirt, rocks, mud, & woodchips to get here.

I see thick black clouds in the sky, and thick yellow bruises on my skin – from the thunder I say. The chains rattle, back and forth.

If only every day could be this simple, growing up wouldn’t suck so much. It’s not really the growing up that gets me; it’s the uncertainty.

In the long run, it’s not going to matter if I bought the lime green nail polish or the Easter egg blue. It won’t matter how many times I’ve smiled, or how many miles I’ve driven with damp eyes. The way I danced at that party that time when I was drunk isn’t going to be on the top of the list of things to think about. Neither is the time I threw chicken out a moving window. In the long run, only the whowhatwherewhenhow’s will matter. At this point, I can’t really see what those are.

But there are future cubicles calling out to me, filled to the keyboard with monotony and self-loathing – if I fuck everything up.

Maybe I’ll end up super-sizing or “plastic or paper”–ing. Who knows, maybe I’ll be fighting for the rights to the corner up the street and around the block.

There are so many unknowns, too many factors. If “What if?”’s are diet supplements, I’ll be ashes in the wind by tomorrow. I don’t like unknowns; I can’t control them. Remotes are nice, because you always know what you’re headed for.

Sometimes I wish my life would stop – but only on the down days, months, or weeks. Sometimes, mostly, I wish the world would stop – if only for a moment. Then maybe I could catch my breath, a nice big one. One full of cigarette smoke and pollution, all the necessary ingredients given by society to clear the lungs and therefore the mind. Or maybe that’s how they give you tumors? I can never remember the difference.

Sometimes, most times actually, the world isn’t going to stop for one single person though. Sure, I can ask politely and kiss some ass, but gravity doesn’t give a shit and my mouth is just another black hole.

“Come on!” she yells and heads black-nail-polished toes first into the mud towards my car.

Simplicity, is it so much to ask for?

What a great way to celebrate being a day older.

Here is a random paragraph I wrote, I was going to go for a four seasons thing but I just kind of landed here and stopped.

Untitled For Now

Have you ever sat outside at night in the winter? The cold burns so deep, my bones can feel the next ice age. They shake unconsciously. I can smell the Thanksgiving turkeys and the Christmas trees poking through the burning dryness in my nose. The streetlight flickers and shuts out – hibernating like a suburban grizzly bear. The smooth warmth of spring will wake it up again. I look down and see red. I didn’t even noticed my finger snagged on a broken bulb. Icicle lights will do that to you.

Like it, don’t like it, whatever. I’m just putting it out there. It’s not my best, but it’s something, and I haven’t been this productive in a while so I’ll go with it.