December 2006 Archives

drunk driving is therapeutic. it takes you places you wouldn't have gone. it helps you forget death lies between the lines. it lets you smile at the red blurry lights. it's the closest thing to a surreal sex scene in a sad slow drama, where there's much more rage than there's lust and desire in the eyes of the actor. drunk driving is just wrong, and wrong always feels good to commit.

there they were in my rear view mirror, they were all there. she had cut her hair, i'd never seen her with short hair before. glossy lipstick, bright pink cheeks and pitch black mascara, her eyes smiling, leaning on her side, she was drunk too.

she was wearing a green dress and gold shoes, she sat next to her.

she was singing along with the french song that was playing in the cd player. it was the one she'd bought from starbucks a while back.

she was reading a book with my photo on the cover. she glanced at me with her brown eyes, shook her head at me with a shy smile, and continued reading.

she rubbed my shoulders from behind. she said i'll be fine, but now i should leave.

she opened the door and took off without saying good bye. the car behind me picked her up, they kissed in the car.

i reached for the button on the cd player and raised the volume. i raised it even more. they were all gone now.

drunk driving is just plain wrong. it messes with your head, that's why some choose to crash into the car in front of them, or the one behind. they can't take the trip, and they choose to die.

she says my feminine side is too strong, other than that i feature all of the common symptoms of persian males, i suffer from mother complex, i'm insensitive to my female partner and i evaluate my life by morales i don't believe in myself.

i'm extremely self-conscious when i'm talking to her. i have become so good at justifying myself it's almost impossible to utter just the facts and nothing else. i have become all story and no reality. everytime i hear her say anything positive about my personality i know i have done it again, i have made myself look good even though i was trying not to. there's nothing good left in me, it's about time i stopped pretending.

i think my feminine side is a venomous bitch. she lies, she sleeps around, she makes her victims feel good about themselves so that their hearts - no matter how hard or frozen - start pumping new crimson blood into their veins like never before, and when she pokes her fangs into their smooth necks from behind their whole bodies throb in satisfaction while she thrives tasting their fountains of fresh blood. she's utterly revengeful. she's been going down ever since she left, and she strives to take as many as she could down with herself.

i think my feminine side is a whore. i think i'm departing her.

i said i never remember. she said i'll remember if i wanted to. this week i've had three so far. she said i need to write it down or else i'll forget.

i entered s.'s house knowing she's the only one home. it doesn't look like s.'s but i know it well and go straight to the master bedroom. i leave my backpack on the armchair across from the bed and change into my shorts, as if i'm there to stay. she walks out of the shower with her towel around her, not really caring if i see her body. she's surprised to see me, doesn't look mad or angry though. sort of indifferent maybe. she's drying herself as the mexican maid walks in. i spring to my feet thinking it's her mom and i'm relieved to find out i'm wrong. she is there to tell her she's leaving with her kids. ( her three kids followed her into the room ) once she's gone i realize i need to leave ( not sure why ). once out of the bedroom she closes the door behind me, she's fully naked now. i knock on the door as i remember i left my stuff inside, she doesn't quite open the door, i let myself in, assuring her i'm just pickin up my backpack. i leave the room.

on my way down the stairs i hear people walkin up. it's s. and her two sons and a few others i don't recognize. there's an odd old guy talkin to a young girl next to him, two of them leading the crowd. they reach upstairs. someone from the crowd walks me out, noone's really payin that much attention to me. dance music starts inside as i'm walking out. i can still hear the music even though the door is shut behind me as i step on the street.it's a busy street in daytime. s.'s house has a big wood door with gold bearings on it. now the music is really loud. i step inside again. this time i'm in a big hall, dancing girls are performing in the middle and many are standing by the walls around watching them. i stand by the door. i notice her right behind me, she's wearing a plain black dress. our eyes meet but we don't talk. she's staring at me as i leave.

i can't recall when the last time was when i saw her so vividly in my dreams, but then i have no recollection of my dreams. i'll take this in with me tonight.