Saturday, August 15, 2009

unslept rambling.

__It came on time.

___The Scripture of the Golden Eternity, Jack Kerouac

friday night, Hollis Brown Thornton

there are will be other ways. if not this one, then maybe the next bus. the late bus, last one- huffing and puffing mechanical beast, all metal and hazy windows, and the bright lights on the inside. and life is a fantasy made of itself. on the bus, these two women, one not-quite-30, the other a decade older. they're all just skanks nowadays, f*cking whores ya know? keep it ta ya'selves ladies. you should see my sista, littlest one, worst of 'em all. a toddler, cute little munchkin, tries to launch herself off her mother's lap. sit still will ya - already can't keep ya where ya s'pose tobe. i smile into the book i'm reading, lifting it higher to cover my face.

and life is a fantasy made of itself. i clean my bathroom, with a cloth around my sink, dust and hair and little nail-clipping around. love the smell of glass-cleaner. funny how you never notice how dirty things get. i sit in the sun and drink my tea. besides me J's on the computer typing away. Behind me someone else toying with photoshop. on a reclining chair, on the grass, reading the Obama autobiography. everyone soo quiet. talking to spring in their own ways. i don't tinker with anything i'm just sitting there. leaning on my coffee mug i can barely sit up and i have my chin in the mug, covering the opening entirely it's warming up my chin quite warm now very pleasant.

tiredtiredtired. haven't slept in days. we get in the car i have a bundle of papers with me and an energy drink. i drive with the windows down and take 10mg and open the can, wash it down. Dude, are you having amphetamines and an energy drink for breakfast? i smile. i don't mean to, but i do. i'm actually sad. yeah. guess i am. Dave shakes his head at me from the passenger seat, hey you got ATLiens on your ipod? nod. they ain't make no pills for what i've got i wanna say. nothing to clear up the lines that are never straight. the car sounds unhealthy. labours on. i finish the can in three gulps and throw the can behind me.

i make my bed. slowly. for no reason at all. it's almost 7pm. if i sleep here tonight i'll sleep soon. but i'll probably fall asleep in her bed again, but it doesn't matter. could be the same bed, the same night, the same everything, but when i get into a made-bed, night just seems a little special. a bow. or well wrapped gift- makes it seem soo much nicer. all my stars just where i want them. i'm terrified when i do try and sleep, last time it was... 4:56am when i got into bed, when it all stops, the music and the tea and sound of pens scribbling or pages turning or tapping on computers or televisions on and cars out by the highway when it all stops it's just me in a really dark room with a heartrate that's... __it can't be, soo fast it worries me.

she smokes. he doesn't have much to say so he doesn't. she tries to read him and fails. hey, what's on your mind? he doesn't look at her. just keeps staring off, with his eyes unfocused, you know when it's just a blur your see but it's soo... captivating you don't want to focus them back up, his Tiresias-eyes, you know, being alive is an art. she doesn't understand what he means, but only that it must have been something important. she remembers she's holding a cigarette and she takes another drag.

and life is a fantasy made of itself. growing itself out of itself. news arms out of thursdays and saturday's blue-eye winks a new sunday morning out of nothing and hands it to you on a platter of such vast darkness, i am in a new place you can't understand- entire night, the whole of it, all 7pm till 6am is nothing for me now. eyeblink. i kiss her eyelid and lie facing the wall a little while, she hoggs all the blanket, she turns me towards her a few moments later and smiles and says it's 8. i nod. a new day out of itself. constantly breaking faces and mirrors and dropping things and new things fall out of and slide past and stand next to and

hey q, yeah, you seem soo out of it, you ok? i nod. yeah, i'm actually really good. really?, you've just been sitting there staring away. i shrug. you've just been reading. what are you thinking? dear god today is a miracle i think to myself. i shuffle my shoes.

so what's next then?

i'm done making the bed. i look around. it's fine. it's dark now. i've had the windows open, so the smell of stale air has dissipated. i collapse on my couch, stare at the ceiling.

today's gone.

nothing to be done about that.

in a minute i'll shower. shave. and go kiss every freckle on her face.

1 comment:

EMBER said...

Your writing leaves dew on everything.