my old my friend

A kiss on my head.

:)

will you stir me up again?
will I tremble across the everyday path, my mind not racing for once?
I want health, rosy-pink.
I want you, old and yellow-tinted.
I want you, with your archaic beauty.

A thorough cleansing was required. It has finally happened. I am glad. Now for the real.

A magnifying glass near my face shows my slips. Pale blue, but prominent. It chills me somewhat, every night as I contemplate dying, as my chest seems to shrivel and the heart races. 
The mind boggles at the recesses. Each layer trembling with insanity. Each laughter measured, each piece of brain slowly sucking in terror. What music can embalm, what arms can soothe, what lies can cheer? 
What can one do, but put on, with obedience, more clothing, pretty, printed, coloured? 

"On that occasion, Ulises didn't have to ask anyone where Erendira was. He crossed the desert hiding in passing trucks, stealing to eat and sleep and and stealing many times for the pure pleasure of the risk until he found the tent in another seaside town which he glass buildings gave the look of an illuminated city and where resounded the nocturnal farewells of ships weighing anchor for the island of Aruba."


You are singing today, your curls damp and slightly tousled, your glasses down, your crisp shirt handpicked lovingly. Crossing many streets, drenched to the skin, murmuring to herself your ballads, your words on a sunny afternoon, she dreamed of days when the old fan groaned its protests and we chanted aloud, or dissected Viola's love speech unceremoniously into a million scribbles. The warmth was inevitable then, as the world seemed more approachable, anything seemed achievable, and the intense, intense hunger to devour more words stayed. Now there's only a mouthful of the mournful sky to swallow. 

CLEMENTINE(stares out window)
My embarrassing admission is I really
like that you're nice.  Right now,
anyway.  I can't tell from one moment to
the next what I'm going to like.  But
right now I'm glad you said, "that's
okay" to me.  That was nice of you.
JOELIt's no problem.  Anyway, I have some
stuff I need to --
CLEMENTINEOh, okay.  Well, sure, I'll just...
(stands, throws bag over
shoulder)
Take care, then.
JOEL(pulling journal from
briefcase)
Probably see you at the book store.
CLEMENTINE(heading toward other end of
car)
Unless I get that hair-color-naming job.
Clementine sits and stares out the window.
INT. TRAIN - LATER
There are a few more people in the car now.  Clementine has
inched a few seats closer to Joel.  She watches him.  His
head is immersed in his journal.


INT. TRAIN - LATER
It's dark out.  The train is pretty crowded.  Joel stares out
the window.  Clementine sits closer still to Joel, eyes him.


EXT. TRAIN STATION - EVENING
The doors open and Joel emerges along with others.  He heads
to the parking lot, arrives at the car.  There's a big dented
scrape along the driver's side.  He gets in.


INT. CAR - MOMENTS LATER
Joel drives.  He passes Clementine walking.  She looks cold.
He considers, slows, rolls down his window.


JOELHi.  I could give you a ride if you need.
CLEMENTINENo, that's okay.  Thanks, though.
JOELYou're sure?  It's cold.
CLEMENTINEI don't want to take you out of your way.
JOELIt's okay.
CLEMENTINEYeah?


He pulls over.  She climbs in.  They drive.


JOELWhere do you live?
CLEMENTINEYou're not a stalker or anything, right?
JOELWell, I probably wouldn't say if I were,
but no.
CLEMENTINEYou can't be too careful.  I've been
stalked.  I've been told I'm highly
stalkable.  I don't need that.
JOELI'm not a stalker.
CLEMENTINE(beat)
You know Wilmont?
JOELYeah.
CLEMENTINEWilmont. Near the high school.
Joel turns.  They drive in silence.
CLEMENTINE (CONT'D)Look, I'm very sorry I came off sort of
nutso.  I'm not really.
JOELIt's okay.  I didn't think you were.


There's a silence.


CLEMENTINESo you like bookstores, huh?
JOELI like to read.
CLEMENTINEMe too.  It is Rain Dogs, by the way.
JOELYeah?  I can't remember that album very
well.  I remember liking it.  But --
CLEMENTINEThe song's 9th and Hennepin.  I spent
most of the train ride trying to
remember.  "Till you're full of rag water
and bitters and blue ruin/And you spill
out/Over the side to anyone who'll
listen."  Remember?
JOELSort of, um...
CLEMENTINERemember?  "And you take on the dreams of
the ones who have slept there/And I'm
lost in the window/I hide on the
stairway/I hang in the curtain/I sleep in
your hat..."
(starts to cry)
Oh, shit.  I'm so stupid.  Sorry.


JOELWhat?


CLEMENTINEI'm just a bit of a wreck.  "I sleep in
your hat" makes me cry.
(pointing to a house)
Me.

People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down

When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange


James Douglas Morrison, you live on. 

I treaded on a flower, apologised profusely, picked it up and tucked it behind my ears. The delicious smell of winter landed on my nose.


I sit in darkness, watching festive insects clambering insanely towards a terrible crescendo under the new white street light.
I blink, and trace the spiral pattern with my fingers, guilty because I lied. It ate me up, the lie. i could feel pain, and even cried a little bit.
That night, I  craved revulsion but under the muted light of the lamp, i betrayed myself.


Nurturing a steady headache, i ignore your warmth and as the earth slowly dies around me,
 I walk under the whispering leaves, switching off lights in my mind.

Yesterday I wanted to be like you, glorious, dimpled and self-destructive

I bathed in your glow, and it burnt me a little, but you are dead you beautiful creature

You died in your sleep, and those curls betrayed you.

Today, I want candour

And as I smear my eyes with a black pencil, I want to time travel.

Instead, I skip a meal and poke my brain with a sharp pencil

Fail at fiction, and smoke a cigarette.

I detest my throat as its scraped and sore
Cannot smoke endless ciggies no more
If you ask me why
i'll prolly not  reply
-why be a raging bore?

its such a sad limerick. from such a sad person. lend me your sympathetic ears and noises

aargh

I worry I worry I worry and I come back to the same point same story.

Lights bounce off the walls, tussar scarves burn, music throbs inside every brain

We laugh, we gesticulate, and spiral webs form on my feet, as they stare at you

-and wonder why

We drink and clap and stare at the walls, happiness in every pore

In the sweet morning light, we make love, out of breath,

Capture heartbeats, capture eyelids

And sleep.

If you wanna hang out youve got to take her out; cocaine. 
If you wanna get down, down on the ground; cocaine. 
She don't lie, she don't lie, she don't lie; cocaine. 


-been swinging to Cream/ Clapton whole day

Sometimes being with you just kills me and i hurt i hurt like a miserable little bitch and i bruise i bruise like i want to like i scream inside scream as loudly as i can and i know you will still go and i know its just a big fat drama inside your twisted little head wish i could touch you that deep and sprinkle a little salt over it


**
you came and you left and it hardly makes a difference and so i tell myself i hate how you are and i want to believe that your profundity is a lie your face is a lie

When the lights will be glimmering all over the city and the carousel will be filled to the brim I might be up in the air sick of wanting you, tired of bright drunken evenings, tired of fighting, tired of sore feet and a mind which has stopped ticking to colours and beats.