Thursday, February 01, 2007

Spring Break Freak Out to the End of the World In a Red Car and Sun Ra

This is just a passage of writing. Nothing about Norway.

“I’m off drugs?”
“Drugs?” He looked around the alley corner and then back at my face. He smirked. “What drugs?”
“I’m traveling around. Hauling a whole bunch of hipsters West.”
He touched his chin and looked down. Maybe at my shoes. Then back at my eyes. I swallowed some spit and edged up closer to him.
“They’re wearing their sunglasses right now.”
He looked over my shoulder and towards the red car. The crew inside jamming away to music. Something loud. It droned out of the cheap plastic and into the night. He looked back at me and frowned.
“Why’d you quite?”
“My eyes. They wouldn’t stop…you know.”
He pulled a cigarette out of the Wild Sevens pack and offered me one. I looked down and could feel the taste of the tobacco. My hand twitched.
“I need some coke.”
“Thought you were off all that stuff. Do you want this?” His hand tapping the cigarette against my nose.
I shrugged and then shook my head. I scratched my face and felt the tears in my flesh. I thought I was bleeding. But it was nothing. He lit the cigarette and looked back over to the car.
“Are they okay just sitting in there like that?”
“If you don’t have any coke than you are wasting my time. Its what I need.” I kicked a bag of money towards him. It had been in the shadow of the night. Enveloped, all wrapped in dark. And now he looked at it and sighed.
“I want to come.”
I spit out of my mouth. Onto the wall. The words, “What!?”
“I’ll bring what I have with me.”
“No,” I told him. “No way. They are a bunch of assholes. And so are you. When we get there, I’m tossing ‘em. And I’m going to the end by myself. Clean as can be and with nothing on my conscience but the sound of wind whistling.”
“No trip. No coke.”
He stubbed the cigarette against the wall and looked over my shoulder again. “Those are some cute girls in there.”
I sighed and reached out for his pack of cigarettes. He slid one out with his thumb and I grabbed it. He lit it with a match. I sighed again, and thought about pushing a bullet through my forehead. Then a giant blood splatter. Then the face of everyone I loved crying. And some friends laughing. And all the people that hated me in a room playing cards, looking up, shrugging their shoulders when they heard the news. Like it had been nothing. Their hate had been nothing. I was alone.
“Bring whatever you’ve got.”

He smiled this time. He patted me on the shoulder and then walked towards the car with two briefcases. My bag of money and I just stood there in the silent alley. Standing and he walked back and I heard a round of joyous hellos and the click of a briefcase opening before the car doors slammed shut again. I heard the music go up even louder. I stabbed the cigarette out and walked back to the car. I was going to listen to what I wanted to. I made the rules. I thumbed my chest and looked through the windows. They were all getting high. I looked back at the alley. I had forgotten my bag of money. Whatever, I thought. The world keeps on going round.

your mouth is everywhere

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