22.Jun.2003

a short description of this entry for the 'older links' page

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I stole that from you shamelessly.

So, I relentlessly craved marinara sauce, and rectified the situation accordingly.

And I drove Terri's car.

And I drank Tecate, smoked Marlboro Lights, eyed the Amber Bock, then promptly realized Anheuser Busch products disgrace my propensity toward Shiner, Texas.

I called Jonathan at the zenith of my inebriation, and I do not recall a goddamn thing I said to him, though I do recall stating in a tone as pragmatic as drunkenly possible, "There is no way I am going to remember this conversation tomorrow." I certainly hope I didn't reveal my sneakily brilliant plans to subversively rape the horror out of France.

And I sighed quietly over all irises hot and dark.

And I thought, "Why bother?" but not out of cynicism, though I may want to lave with secured fingers the everloving inside of you.

And I came home.

The subtle nuances of everything stir me. As I stated to my mistress punk of an older sister, I am irreversibly hung-over, and have been making my trademark "I Loathe Andy Warhol" moans into my archaic, jumbled mess of a cell-phone.

--

Though I felt physically miserable on the ride home, I played a burnt CD of Jason's musical cerebrum. It became perfectly clear to me via the spine-removing bass exactly what I want out of life.

Jason, I hope to visit you soon, and I am bringing my piano fingers with me.

He said, "Anytime."

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time & machine