leave me out to dry, it takes some time...

Wednesday, Apr. 30, 2003 9:06 pm

there was no way to be sure what time it was. Late, early. same difference. It took a moment to be sure of it, but I was awake. The first thing I heard was my heart beating, then the rest of the world fell into place.
A car horn.
The sound of the curtain lifting and falling.
I heard a lighter flicking, and smoke is exhaled into the air.

That was me.

I'm, sleepless... I muttered aloud. Nobody responded. Feeling thankful nobody heard that lucid comment, something in my head decided it wise to open my eyes. I was on my back looking at my body laid out down the bed. The sheets were thrown off... too damn hot. Sweat covered my brow but I didn't move. A hand holding a cigarette slowly made its way in front of my face and put the sweet tobacco to my lips which opened partially and bit down softly. My lungs worked on their own volition, sucking the smoke inside, holding it for a moment, savoring the additives as my heart beat slowed down. Then the exhale. The kind of exhale that feels like the last exhale after sex. I arched my spine and scratched my back. Sweat on the small of my back. I could feel my muscles pull like guitar strings. Certainly, if I looked close enough, the dust could be seen jumping off. My shoulder hurt, and I rubbed it, the cigarette stuck between my lips. I could taste the sweat that was on my fingers on it's filter. That horribly terrific taste of salt. My face winced from sore spot, one of many, and I cursed under my breath.

Only the alcoholic thinks something as divinely constructed as the human body, is for the most part totally worthless.

I started to think about when I would write this moment down, and how cool I would try to make it sound to be a complete waste of life.
The cigarette was tasting better with each inhale, each exhale slowing my heart beat down even more. There was nothing left to drink within arms reach, and I knew once my body, head and the sunlight all lined up in some astrological concoction, that I would pay. But what else was new? The thoughts came back about putting this part of my life into words and displaying it for everyone to read. I chuckled to myself, then coughed from the smoke. I took another drag to calm the coughing, then put it out.
I'm going to write about being a total fucking train wreck, and people will read it. I love this shit, I hate this shit. I looked at the air.

...

Where the fuck am I?

I reached for another cigarette. I didn't feel like I had to go, so I just lay there. The lighter went
flick
flick
flick
and then the sigh of my inhale.
I might want to change my life, if I hadn't learned to love fucking it all up...

exhale.

who knows what tomorrow will bring

.new .older .profile .email .guestbook .soundtrack :: defect

dland exuant omnes your voice drifts away into lost binary alleyways it echoes photography

last five:
A Winter Letter - Wednesday, Nov. 28, 2007
almost but not quite - Wednesday, Mar. 22, 2006
rural times, blue skies. it feels so warm over my hair - Wednesday, Jun. 01, 2005
smiles and gone - Monday, Feb. 07, 2005
I caught my love in North Carolina - Monday, Nov. 29, 2004

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