February 7th, 2004

sea

(no subject)

When I was a kid my way of telling whether I am enjoying life was whether I was happy in the mornings. It was a serious question to ask your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and then if the answer was reluctant to come to mind and I would rather dip my face in a soft towel and breathe hot after shower air that meant life was doing very well indeed. If I hated every little tile on the bathroom wall and closed my eyes to a thought of having to get dressed and leave the house that meant that I should dread whatever was going to happen and that my existence is empty meaningless and sad.

For almost a year I was waking up with this feeling of reluctance to any movement as if it may hurt me. Every day I was wearing a blue tie and gray same suit. A shirt with a nametag for it not to get confused in the laundry with another couple of hundreds same shirts of school kids. We got on the school bus and there was Richard. The one dream come true, a young handsome hard core school driver with several tattoos, junk jewelry and beautiful eyes. Perhaps 28 was not so young for a 12 year old girl but it was good enough for us to sing out loud cheesy old songs 'don't want to be alone any more' and not care what people thought of it. That guy was probably my best friend then. He gave me a Garry Moore tape, the one that made me especially homesick. Probably the one tape he did have. Weird. Weird sympathy between a weird sweet kid and a lost too old teenager with a fucked up love life.

This probably was not a good idea. I am in no position to put my experience into words.
But I like thinking back to it.
If there is anything that makes me different.

***


Another thing I love to get back to… or used to love to get back to was my cigarettes on the wall. Cigarettes on the wall and a cappuccino on the sunny pavement. No, it wasn’t sunny, it was bloody grey that day. But it was a good cappuccino. Also I remember how we were sitting outside on the tiny small train station, and you were eating my Pringles and snickers and drinking my coke. You even tried my Marlborough. What else can you smoke in that goddamn country. It was definitely sunny then. Oh, and! How we were stuck in the pub after we missed the only train back. And how we were drinking Becks in front of a huge Becks poster on a brown brick wall and how he bought me a pair of jeans and then it took me ages to give the money back, me being irresponsible as always. And how he made a joke out of it when he had it back, and how everyone reacted and how pleased and embarrassed I was. And how… Wilson and I on the grass outside his student house were trying to imagine that it was summer. And how the leather coat feels when there are two phones ringing, how a crap pizza tastes better only because it is in Kensington and how Albanians can be unpretty. And how….

Good night)
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sea

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