On occasion you hop into someone who is already on timeshare with someone else. Sometimes, this someone else isn't willing to lend space. Sometimes it's like a roommate you never see that moves your shit around but you're not even sure if they still live with you anymore. A ghost of a ghost roommate. And sometimes you hop into someone already so deep possessed, that they don't know anymore.
I remember the first time I met Leigh, and the other one he was already owned by. A jumper that had laid serious claim. Key word “owned”, like that was a thing others still did. And they do, but normally burn out or halting occurs. Or you get fed up and flee. But not this one.
I remember the first time I met Leigh, and felt AFOF in the background. Looming right behind and in. I remember the eyes, though I couldn’t see them. And neither could he.
Sometimes the thing that owns you becomes so ingrained in your life that you forget. You just dream walk your life. Dismissing everything, which is second nature to most humans in the reality I met Leigh in.
It’s bits and pieces. You wake up to sunshine out the window and daisies roaming around your head and in your hand there’s something gritty and your eyelids are like glue so you wince and go to touch your head to wave away the stars and birds of the afterfog of pretty heavy binging, excess of pills and powders and bottles still on the table, and that grittiness is now against your temple so you look. And you stare. And you think.
This is not my hair in my hand, slightly matted and clotted from tangles and red. You wash it and tie it and put it away, but you never figure out exactly why. Though you know. But you make sure you don’t really know.
Sometimes it’s already clean, and then you hold it most of the day. Run it over your face and lips. Be gentle when you rub it between your fingers. But usually not.
Sometimes it’s just a new tshirt in the wash that is’t your’s. Or a sock. Now and then there’s a new piece of jewlerly in the drawer. A ring that doesn’t fit your finger.
Sometimes it’s the faint memory of a kiss.
When you left, you left a promise behind that I could change without you here.
I guess things get exciting. I guess I come alive when I’m not awake.
It was like someone replaced you and then left again. Just for the night. By morning, I was watching bits of whoever this person had been fade away.
We had slept in the bed. You put me there. Carrying me into your place half asleep after going to the waffle house and stomaching food because we were both done and wrecked and you were drinking coffee, which you totally hate, because you eyes were glazed over. I think that's where it started. Your nerve started to drop. You on one side of the table drinking it black and making veiled disgusted faces at it, hair just down and a curtain that parted over your nose when you looked up or leaned your head back. Something about that, about your eyes being gone and just watching you breathe exhausted through your mouth, teeth showing just a little through your lips, killed me.
And I was tired. And sore. And my clothes were all on but they felt soggy and like they were falling off and way upper on the insides of my thighs there were bites and a few showed if I moved my legs wrong so I walked real careful because we were back in civilization. Where I was too young for you. And even if I wasn't, you look like you and I look like somehow you're doing something wrong by just being around me.
I'm not stupid. I know what people think they see.
I like what they think they see.
And I like what's under that too. What I know. What shines through a little. What peaks through the cracks in you.
When I tried to touch your leg with my foot you tensed up and then moved you leg a little.Because us looking like we did sitting across from each other didn't already say a really clear message.
Right.
Like me being with any guy anywhere at this time of morning didn't already look like something.
Right.
Like anybody cared.
Right.
I didn't want to eat because suddenly I felt sick and sad because I wanted to touch you and you were being cold and I felt my throat tightening and you said "Hey" and stared a minute got up and it got worse when you walked away. And I tried to ignore you and stare at the table, but the there was a plastic glass in front of me with orange juice and you were standing there and said
"Drink et... yer sugar's proly down."
And I just stared at it and for a minute you stood there and then you sat and then you pushed it near me with your fingers some more and I stared at how your knuckles stuck out and then I looked at you and tried to glare because I was so mad. And I could see your brow furrowing through the hair and that made me more angry and I wanted to kick you or knock the drink over at you and I think you sensed some kind of scene starting to play out. And at first, there was this look of confusion, followed by panic, and I thought "Good good you stupid jerk you stupid" but then you blinked. And squinted. And pushed your hair behind you ear on one side. The side that everyone could see. And took the straw in my water and stabbed it into my juice and pushed it in front of me hard and said
"Keep makin the face an ya can hitch home. Drinkit."
And when a few seconds passed, you gave it a last push"Now."and just held it there and waited.
So I did. And you made a "hmm" and leaned back and crossed your arms and your hair fell back into your face. You exhaled hard out of your nose.
I sipped juice.
You looked out the window. And then back. And then took my plate and cut up my food and muttered things about me making a mess and mashing things around doesn't make a person think I'm eating. That you weren't a fool. That you knew an eating disorder when you saw one. And speared some waffle and sausage on but not egg on a fork and held it out to me. And I blinked. And glanced around. And stared at you. And then ate it.. and then you ate a bite or two and then repeated and that's how we ate our dinner. Sometimes you'd remind me to drink the juice. Sometimes I'd have water too.
You carried me into the trailer. Stopping by the couch and squinting and shifting my weight a second before bringing me to the bedroom and the bathroom next to it and putting me down and I was wobbly but you slapped me on the butt (but not hard) and said something about me going to go pee. Something about getting the drunk out of my system.
I left the door open.You didn't notice at first but when you did you froze and I just stared and it's like you didn't know what to do anymore. Not until I got up. And pulled up my panties. And washed my hands. And got into the bed, which you'd already pulled the cover down on.
I counted to two hundred and fifty two before you moved or did anything, after I was in the bed. You staring broke off and you pushed your hair back again but this time not even to get it out of the way. To just move it. And you pulled your boots off standing up and turned your back to me to do it and I heard you unclip your belt and your fatigue shorts just dropped right off of your skinny self and you were in these purplish cotton briefs and then your button up went after it and I was starting to notice all these little random scars and bruises and cuts and bits of ink but not a lot and then your hat just drifted onto the pile and your face was lost under your hair and you were in the bed and reaching for the light.
But a hand on your wrist stopped you.
And it was mine.
With my thighs on either side of your waist. And at first all you said was "umm..." but then you make this swallowing, kind of strangled kind of not breathing sound when I kissed you hard on the mouth, harder when I tasted all the sweet sting and smoke and me on it, and grabbed your cock with my other hand and then we didn't say goodnight and the last thing I remember was you kept going long after everything went black.
So I'm pretty fucking convinced that first kisses (like not your actual first ever but sure that too) should actually be like in the movies because in most movies it just seems way, way fucking easier.
No shut up bear with me a second there's logic here.
In the movies everyone gets that "oh fuck" moment where they get this adrenaline slow motion clarity and then you land it right and everything goes really fucking well. Ok not everyone but it happens a fair amount and it happens across all genres. Even fucking kids movies. There's a reason for that.
The thing is that shit is a total fucking lie, because you GET the "oh fuck" moment and then without fail it never ever fucking ever goes down how you're rolling with it or planning it or throwing it. It always fucks up. Sometimes you'll have a bunch of "oh fuck" moments in a fucking row and none of it pans out and then your "oh fuck" becomes "oh fuck this" and then "I'm fucked" and then nothing happens except depressing bullshit so it's all a wash anyway.
So if it went like it did in the fucking movies, I'm pretty sure plenty of people would have less confidence issues.
Or maybe just me.
Whatever.
Our first didn't go anything like that. It went the other way it does in movies. And it sucked. Well maybe not for you and maybe it didn't suck but it wasn't smooth either and it was also when I tried to really stop thinking ahead or thinking I even had any say in anything but it didn't stop me from ever trying to control every single fucking thing and running off or shutting down when I couldn't.
Fine.
FINE.
Once upon time..
Jesus.
Once upon a oh what the fuck
So who even invited you to the party? Was it Anthony? Did Anthony invite you?
It's like I got to know you and suddenly everyone I knew was like into you and I don't even mean wanting to fuck you though there was that too but I mean everyone I fucking knew just was like "Amy Amy Amy" all the damn time and I couldn't escape it no matter where I went. All my people, the whole fucking main clan and beyond that, my clients, I swear to god people on the fucking street when I went into town with just be "Amy" this and "Amy" that and I should have just become a shut in or something.
I go to the party because that's what I DO and I sat on the couch in the main living room space and the place isn't Jake's anymore, it's Al's, and I think it might have always BEEN Al's and whatever I'm derailing Jake was around but he was pretty fucked up still but that wasn't my problem or so I kept preferring to tell myself because that makes it easier. and I'm talking with Christy who's still healing up from what Kay did back when she was still a boy and somebody I didn't trust at fucking all and he was talking about how hard it was to breathe now because his lung got so badly punctured and I'm just nodding because that's a feeling I know way too fucking well and I'm drinking beer and wine because if I just do wine somebody will come out their face at me so I just chase the homemade in my hand with some Blue Moon somebody brought and I'm like "Yeh? Yeh. Yeh." at everything because Christy and I always clicked pretty well and I'm about to kick Matt's ass at GGX and Christy is trying to laugh about how Monster never has a curfew and Matt's just making those faces he makes where he rolls his eyes and his tongue is sticking out the side of his mouth and is all "Best mom ever dude best mom ever" and I think that if Matt was my kid I'd probably set him loose how she does too because it seems to keep him level better and he's talking about some dude named Theo all of a sudden and Christy's talking about some guy named Nash and I'm suddenly wondering if every single person I know is queer and that doesn't bother me cause I'm happy for them but it bothers me that I feel bothered for some reason so I'm trying to change the subject but instead McKai is like leaning over the back of the couch talking shit about Jules' not girlfriend owner person and I'm just like "woah wait what?" and Jules is just shrugging and moving his locs out of his face and is like "Slave, man." and McKai's yelling "IT AIN'T RIGHT" but they're also laughing and I'm trying to follow but I feel my face getting more and more thrown off lookin and then Monster goes
"What ain't right is Ellis having that guy Michael running around."
And I'm about to ask who the fuck Michael is and I'm about to get up because the whole couch went from games and easy shit to everyone talking about BDSM and queer shit and the fact that talking about holes in your lungs is easier than talking about this makes me have serious thoughts about how naive I actually am about everything on the damn planet and that makes me think of Amy which makes me think of things that i won't admit to anybody but Al who's not going to say shit to anyone because he's not that big of a prick even to me but then before I can say or do anything, in that milisecond, Christy nods and it makes the lights bob up and down on the two spikes like horns coming out of his cap on either side of the rifles over a bike patch and say "Yup." in that toneless voice he always has and McKai fucking whistles like some babe walked in but it's about whoever this Michael dude is and June, who is straight as a ruler, even more straight than that, is nodding, and I am lost but then McKai whistles again and I look up and for a second I think he's whistling at Anthony and I'm about to say fuck this and dip the fuck out because this is too weird for me right now
But then Anthony's big stupid ass moves and you're standing there and I am not leaving this party. Nope.
You're wearing some strapless black and pink plaid dress thing and these little fucking platform heels and that are basically strappy sandals made of shiny leather with spikes all over the top of your foot and the front of the toe and a coat that's like a cloak but not at all with these patches and a huge fur hood that most of your hair is all like pooling in and next to Anthony you look like you could fit in the palm of somebody's hand and he's got two beers in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other and he's laughing and somehow patting you on the head with all of those and you're laughing too like this is NOR.MAL. and sipping from the Jack and I had been sitting down but somehow at some point I stood up and now Monster's tugging on my button up like "Dude I can't fucking see? You out?" and grabbing for the controller and I almost tell Matt to fuck off but instead I drop the controller on the couch and it's like I'm outside of myself watching myself wander over slow with my two bottles looking like the only idiot in the room.
I keep waiting for you to look over and notice me like five or ten feet tops from you no it was definitely like five but you don't and I'm about to walk over but then you turn your head so I freeze so I don't look too eager or pushy or interested which in hindsight was the stupidest though because no shit I was interested you'd been at my house and on the phone with me a billion times already and you have my number and what the hell was my issue you just looked wayway too fucking pretty for me to even talk to but you're talking to AN.THO.NY. and normally that would make everyone else fuck off but instead when you turned your head suddenly your attention gets called back right before you look at me by some dude in a gas mask who's all wiry but not looking with slicked back blond and black hair and I'm suddenly punched in the face by the realization Mito is at one of Al's parties and that Al is here and nothing is ok right now and he's talking to you Mito is talking to my fucking girl and this place is going to get lit up and people might die and I'm staring really hard at his waist and hips for irregularities in the way his clothes are sitting that no one else would notice but then again I realize he's Mito and that shit would be out because he doesn't give a fuck or even worse he wouldn't carry because oh fuck and I'm glancing outside and around for other people he's with and I see Alabaster's brown and white spotted face by the door with his locs pulled back and he sees me and makes this really bored fucking face and my head is yelling "Fuck" more and more dully because I'm going into a mode that I barely ever need anymore and I make a similar face and do this half nod and scan the windows and I'm pretty sure I see Rho's big ass outside which could mean a lot of good things or more bad things so eyeballing you I walk around wide and ignore the mixture of Latino and English words being tossed around between you and Mito and stop myself from staring because I don't need you involved but it's too late because Alabaster's always kinda tired always kinda on edge always kinda asshole voice rolls out and is just
"That can't be your's."
And I could really
really
really go for mixing some scabs and scars in with the whiting and browns on his face but there's a reason he and I are who we are for our people so I just squint at him and mutter "Surprise surprise.." while I pull a cig out of my little wooden box out with my mouth and light it with the flint in the side and blow smoke out my nose so it doesn't go in his face because we've had that fight once before but this still makes the point and he does this grimace smirk and shrugs and leans into the front door frame more and crosses his arms further and that's his way of inviting me to stay put and make people go around or to move and let people through and I know which one makes me look like more of a pussy right now so even though it's bullshit I block the door but if this place is about to get fucked it's better more stay outside anyway and I offer him a cigarette and he takes one and he's drinking water from a plastic bottle and between his blue, tagged and patched cut offs at his calves and the tshirt he's wearing with the Fu dog bting through a chain with burning money around it's face and giant luck coins in it's eyes shirt and it's tongue is bitten off and hanging out, I wonder how the hell this kid is still only sixteen and why exactly I haven't been expected to pay better tribute to the Taqtaloq yet and some asshole tries to go by us and Baster blocks and clips him with his shoulder and the fact that he's only five-five and that I could toss him across a room pretty easily doesn't change the fact that something about him gets people to fuck right off and this dude says something and then looks Baster in the face and maybe it's the grey irises or just how everything about him seems like stone 24/4 but the guy mutters something like an apology and leaves.
I just exhale more smoke out my mouth and look out and to the side and my double take it is obvious like someone stabbed me in the neck a few times because now Anthony, Mito, and Al are all around you laughing and joking and you're calling Anthony "Tio" and it's when I look away and kinda register Baster's amused face before he looks even more pissed and stares out at the front yard covered in cars and bares his teeth and I follow his gaze and see Jack and Kay and Rho all chatting that I know this night is going to be completely fucked and make no sense and when I see Oz get out of the car they all came in I just stub and flick and mutter something and get the fuck inside.
Say what you want about Al, but his plans typically, or at least to me, are more shot without thought than mine even are. I know part of why he keeps me around is because I map things even when I try not to, and all I'm seeing in my head is that all these houses, all these families are showing up tonight and this is the first party that is completely under Al's reputation here and I suddenly realize this might be on purpose so walking over to bring the problems up to him is turning into my demanding what the fuck and I'm so absorbed into it I nearly trip on Lili, who I haven't seen up close in at least a year, and I do not want to see right now, and it all throws me off so much that I pause and start to apologize but I realize Henna is with her so instead I recoil and something like a hiss actually comes out of my teeth because I am that fucking stressed out because if she's here then Z is here and this entire party is turning into a shit storm and Lili is to the nines in every single piercing she owns tonight and it's all gold and silver all over her dark as fuck skin and she is not amused or impressed which is why I am never ever fucking her because talk about way too up there for anyone and she's got all these fushia and blue locs in tonight and Henna of course just looks like the bitchiest little Latinx red riding hood poster goth diva and her brows knit and her mouth, which is always too fucking full looking and makes me hate my brother sometimes, purses and sneers at the same time and that voice that is probably what landed her the line of work she's in to begin with rolls out and I'm trying to not just keep backing up because I hate cats but I hate her the most but I guess Henna's bitchiness is too much for even Lili if that's possible so the conversation is brief and disjointed
"Oh and I thought tonight was going to be fun. Hi loser."
"Where's Z."
"Hi Leify.. you shook over sumthin?"
"Lil. Hey. No. Just lotsa people an.."
"Well maybe if you'd come out of that trailer and visit people-"
"Henny shush, Leif just prefers his crowds, huh boo?"
"He doesn't have crowds. He just coasts."
"... Henna where the fuck is Z.."
"Through everything. In life. Like a loser. When're you gonna get a job, loser?"
"Shit Henny damn.. Leigh maybe we'll talk later?"
"I have a job sure Lil but first where the fuck is Z."
"Your brother" and she stresses the b word so hard and makes her eyes huge and lets it hang like cats do and I want to hit her in the face and Lil's eyebrow goes up about as far as it can go "is making the rounds as best he can. He's having a hard week. Not like you'd know anything about that."
"... Wowwwww ok Hen let's-"
"... Listen bitch"
"WOWWWW Leigh let's"
"Bitch motherfucker did you just bitch me you piece of shit you never FUCKING CALL HIS ASS HE WAS IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. AGAIN. LIKE YOU CARE. YOU WORTHLESS"
And like clockwork, three things happen. Lili's arm is around mine and Al is next to me and I am turned and Lil is laughing with Al and I'm trying real hard to turn back around to deal with Henna but instead when I look back she's already quiet and I look again and see why because he's standing there, head bowed down to her, braces on both arms and one of his hands is shaking as he's holding one of his crutch canes but at least he doesn't have both and my face falls and she's nuzzling his sideburns around his glasses and kissing the top of his shave head and running her fingers along the red suspenders he wears when he really needs to feel a shit ton better and so she can spot him easier for when his head blanks out and he starts to autopilot and I wonder how many different things they have him on right now and when I see he's slumping already after just standing for a minute my chest gets real tight and I pull out of Lili and Al's grip and storm forward leaving Lil questioning what I ever did to piss Henna off like that and how obvious the answer is is just pissing me off and they're both following me so I turn around and my voice can't get much lower like when you're trying to yell but as quietly as fucking possible.
"The fuck Al?"
"Iunno Eify, teh fuk?"
"Um.. dolls do I need to like shoo off somewhere?"
"Nah nah Lil Eeeeeiiiffyy here's just chewin his tail again what man?"
And I just stare at them both, spreading out my hands wide like everyone else must be bat shit while he grins through a spleef that is too big to be allowed and passes it to Lil who's in this leopard fur shawl over a zebra corset and only she could pull that off and I'm remembering how hard it is to stay pissed off around her because she's in leather pants in stiletto boots and chains all over everything and I realize her shawl is also like a cape and she's got a little crown in her hair that says "bitchface" and tonight is too much and then I see the squid drawn on the side of the ginormously long fucking blunt and that means Al is smoking Mito's shit and my brain explodes and I just let out the first thing that comes up.
"WHY THE FUCK DID TIO BRING AMY HERE?"
And my hand is pointing at her, and it takes literally a full second or two for me to realize the series of like 4 or five rooms and the stairs suddenly have looked over in our direction and Lil's eyebrows are to the ceiling and she has this pursed smile I never want to see again and her eyes are dancing with their horizontal irises and her nose scrunches while Al stands up completely fucking straight which doesn't happen and he tokes hard and holds it out to me grinning and not a wisp comes out when he grins and he says maybe I need some and Lili's going "wowwwwww" and Henna's snippy little face is rolling her eyes and nuzzling Z's chest who's smirking while he rests some weight on her and she's snarking "That's not latent behavior, right? You don't turn into that at midnight, right?" and he's just chuckling and shaking his head and saying "shhhhh" and I'm deflating and my hand is drooping and my eyes, one and then the other because I can never get the stupid left one to work right when I'm stressed, look at you first
and
the
CROWD
of people around you including Jack and Oz and Kay and and Anthony looks way too drunk and way too confused and a little hurt at me and the way he squints makes me drop the pointing hand read fast and pocket it because friends or not I've seen what he can do and will do for no reason and I'm still not looking at you just around you and I notice for a second Mito looking at Kay in this sneaky way but when she looks at him with her whole tumbling down of blond and red hair and button nose and five billion little cuts of scar tissue and a dress that was probably just a tshirt at one point in her life he looks quickly and smoothly at you and then me and then you again and through the mask I can hear some kind of chuckle and a "I see what you mean mami, but I think maybe you don't get it." and I realize they were talking about me which means they were all talking about me and this is some fucking nightmare and then he walks over after murmuring something to you and patting you on the arm and waves off the pass that Al is holding out but not in a dismissive way and even nods his head and suddenly I'm wondering if half the things I hear about him are true and he looks dead at me and cants his head to the kitchen and the door that heads outside it and says something I can't catch and I must make a face because he laughs and just says "Walk with me." and I follow him and as we head out to the porch I realize not only is Alabaster with us, but that the porch clears instantly.
I'm eyeing Baster, who could give a fuck less about me and is shuffling Magic cards as he sits up on the railing, a grip wrapped in medical tape sticking out of a holster hidden in the front side of his shorts, and at first don't process that Mito's extremely well manicured black nails are unclipping the snaps on the bottom half of the Israeli and lifting it over his head. When I do, the first thing I notice besides his hands looking nice though like they've known work for practically ever, is his jawline as he raises the mask. Which is angled but more like someone way too fucking pretty for their own good and less like something you'd think of someone with his level of reputation having.
"So.."
The word, by itself, without the mask muffling it is instantly melodic. Like he's pulling words from a song, which immediately makes me think of things from growing up, and puts me at ease, which helps with how attractive his face is until the mask is fully off. It's not that he becomes less attractive, but suddenly I am dealing with a face that is completely void of eyes in their sockets, and massive scar tissue of very cleanly cut, repeated lacerations going from sometimes above his trimmed eyebrows to prominent but rounded cheekbones, a few straying across the bridge of a soft, small, thick nose.The hair that falls down into his face, across the cheekbones, hits his lips here and there, help dull the shock. And when he pushes it back out of the way, it's easier to look at somehow.
A thought rolls through my head that leave it to an Indian to get the hots for a Mexican but I squash that about as quick as I'm capable of. Instead I wait for him to follow it up with something, and when it doesn't, I look from Baster who acts like I'm not even there still, back to probably the prettiest nonfemmey dude I've ever seen in my life and I'm trying really, really hard to squash that so I go to say "yeh?" but what comes out is
"Wait how can you fucking see?"
And Baster's nearly dropping Nylea's Emissary and Fertile Ground while shuffling makes me tense briefly, but it all trickles away with the laughter that follows. I feel the corner of my mouth twitch and I'm starting to feel a chuckle start coming out so it does
"Your Amy, I think, has excellent taste."
but that gets curbed pretty quickly. And so quickly throw down my own best defense.
".... Huh?"
Once upon a fucking time I think we were about a week No. Wait.. Two weeks. We were like two weeks into the first time you dropped over my stupid house which was a fucking disaster because you fell asleep at my place and I got pretty fucking done in watching you sleep on the bed and I hadn't touched you and I had Anthony drive you home cause I was too done and in hindsight I still wonder why the fuck I picked Anthony.
By now my phone was always on silent because otherwise it was basically going off constantly all fucking day and I'd be trying to chill with people or have some piece of mind or rub it out or whatever and it would just go off but I was starting to think the silent option was worse cause I kept it on vibe which was creating this weird Pavlov fucking thing and it was all basically just a fucking problem.I was on the floor with my back against the couch staring at the ceiling with the phone in front of me in my hand and I was thinking about how I gave you my address so you wouldn't get my number but that failed because you came to my place so I gave you my number so you could warn me next time
"I migh be fuckin out or somethin"
"I could wait? I like your place."
"It could be rainin"
"I like rain, silly."
"I could be in the fuckin shower"
"I like showers too."
And it was the way you said it and your mouth did this little thing along with your eyes and it made my skin tighten up and my hands crawl and I was always getting stomach aches now from you and I was taking stuff for it from Al and it was becoming like some psychosomatic thing where when you said something suddenly I was chewing kava and blackberry like it was going to change a fucking thing. Like it was going to change that you knew damn well you said and did shit that drove me forward that nearly had me pinned to the porch railing reaming you but I still had a billion reasons excuses whatever not to do a damn thing and it was like you skirt and shorts always got shorter every time I saw you and your body got fuller looking and you always seemed a bit more wild and like somebody'd been suckin on your lips but no one was but you were biting them all the damn time so maybe that was it. But what killed me worst was that you knew what you were doin to me but at the same time it was like you didn't know at all and you were always acting like you were doing shit wrong so then you'd talk more and I'd talk less and
... exactly how many emoticon things could a person put in a single fucking line? That wasn't even a lot for you. But I was thinking more that you were saying that I was pretty sure because you were saying you were going to come over. I think. I wasn't actually sure. I was pretty fucking sure but if I said "Nah don't" you might get your feelins hurt or if I was like "I'm out" you'd probably know I was fuckin lying through my teeth but if I WENT out I'd just go to Al's or even to the school and both of those didn't make you disappear and so I just stare at the text and then sigh and put it down again and bounce the back of my head off of the couch cushions a few times like that's gonna change a damn thing either.
I know this progression. I hold out and you either say way less or way more or you do just head over and I've been pretty fuckin successful at avoiding the later lately but then again you also got my ass on the phone a few times and I hate the phone. I hate it. I hate talking into it and I only use it for business and even then it's like "Yeah/nah" and that's basically what most of the phone conversations are. You talking nonstop and now and then I say a sound or a thing or ask a question but I never ask right and I have to repeat things or you're on another planet as usual so same deal and the talking sucks for me but I get to hear you without being here and being a problem though I want you to be here and be a problem it's just when you get here the problem's actually me and that's why this'll never work.
Worse is when you ask me questions. Usually trivial random shit that I think you do want me to answer but you just keep talking past it anyway so what do I know, but then you suddenly ask this random deep ass thing or something that I actually have to think about and I don't want to think, especially about anything you're askin me, because then my stomach flips again and I get like ice and I feel like the biggest fuckin idiot on this fucking planet and then I'm kicking myself and you get so fucking quiet waiting and maybe I mutter something but maybe instead I don't or I laugh and say something that doesn't even fit right and I can hear the disappointment in your fucking voice when you change the subject so it's easier on me but I want to be able to answer you and say these things to you. I just can't.
And then sometimes it's late or you're skippin or you're in a bathroom somewhere and then everything about hating the phone goes out the window and I love the phone and I want you to come over and maybe that's why I keep doin this but I don't think so. That's not everythin. I don't think. I dunno.
No. No I do fuckin know and I'm lyin to myself but that's easier than actually going along with this.
I think.
"I guess I'll be there in like 30? *kissuuuuuuuuu#^u^#uuu??*"
I could stop this all now. Or I could say something like "yeah".
But I don't.
(a few people have asked me about Alstor’s accent and the like, and the problem is you can’t pin it. He’s been all over too many continents and sponges every language’s basic nuances (and culture nuances) and just absorbs it. Largely it’s due to being nomadic, but also due to how he makes his living, which is barter/trade/etc. So you’ll hear a whole mash-up in there, and he’ll change daily which bits and pieces he uses more. He taught me real early that the less a person can follow what you say, the better chance they’ll get cowed and agree with you)
Once pona time, eh? Alrigh.Once pona time...
Once pona time this trailer yard fulla people. Fulla people an theys chillins runnin all round an dogs yappin an I though it look like a right nice place so I put a stop to that real quick.
Canna have babies runnin around yer operation. Canna have kept dogs.So I burned that bitch down.
Yeh learn to be real patien, when ya wanna thing. Months rolled out. Place so burnt no one wanted it, an I made damn sure that too. Got people squattin in there, made it right skeez. Jus kep droppin theys off inna woods nearby when theys rollin, they find theys way in.
Yeh make arrangements, like. Drop off candy now an then, and theys stay.
Months rolled out, they sell that plot cheaper than wood shavins, so I bought it. Bought the whole wreck, all them bombed out burnt out trailers an the woods round it cause no one wanted that shit.Yeh want somethin you canna have, yeh make it ugly. Uglier than ugly. Then theys be throwin it at you beggin.
Bought it an mosta tha shit got scrapped, made more than nough back. City even threw in a few bones cause I said I'd clean up them squatters. Coulda just ranm' out, but bustin heads be nice too, so I mixed it up. Kickin guts on the ones that needed it. Kept a few girls - they got uses.
I wernt in no rush, an it took time, but tha's how we got home, innit, illPheeist?Tha's how we foun Leigh too, issn't?
Yeh drink that deep and that blin catcha and I was ussa them white halfbreeds anyway - all us mutts know the same story anyway. 'E was a rail an washed through an founm' in onea thems trailers an I says "Who the fuck is you, boyo? You wasn' my caravan." an he stone blind drunk ans them needles lyin roun and I expectin to dirty my hans on thissun so I go ta kickm an e lashes with a big ol strip metal e had an near bust my shin an try to shiv me an I dance roun it and I's laughin but then e stumble out all them blankets e made a pallet of an even though e got the only hollow in teh face e coul be my mirror an he shakin and wobblers an ready ta go an I straighten up an my head tilts an I say "Yeh know wha food is, boyo? Yeh wans food?"
An e looks at me slow unner this matta black n brown an I sees them eyes an he a fuckin magician, fuckin wizard, fuckin roots magic, they so black an purple like moon on black water an he triesa straighten an I see them broken ribs an the needles make real sense now an I pretty sure this issa kid turned man to early an then he spewin bile all over the burn out floor an still grippin that metal an I says but nah too loud
"Dunna worry, boyo - poppa ain gunna finya 'ere."
An he spittin through teef an theys blood all inna bile an he says
"Fuck you"
an like dat, his lights go out. Fell on is own shiv too - through teh calf.
