|Current music:||mudhoney. suck you dry.|
can't breathe till i suck you dry.
here's what i've written so far. so go ahead and read it if you'd be so kind and tell me what you think.
“Ahm, hello.” He rigidly stuck out his pale hand and smiled, awkwardly pushing up his thick rimmed glasses with the other and clearing his throat as if there was actually something there to clear out. The poor guy was intimidated; he thought I was some sort of cool character. Man, what a joke. But from the first time I saw him, I loved him. So I’d give him a show, I’d be a character all right. “My name’s Hugh.”
At that point in my life, the summer I turned fifteen, I was through with overrated teenage drama bullshit; everyone I knew was always so fucking pessimistic, suicidal, and wanted to tie themselves to train tracks. Everyone except for me. Sure, I sound like a negative asshole now, but these people were fucking zombies watching television for hours and sticking safety pins in their legs. “Yeah, okay.” I would tell them. “You’re so fucking sad and you want to die so, before you go ahead and do that, let’s go have some fun. Maybe that will sustain you for awhile.” And really, what could I do but vaguely console them and drool over the new day’s sunrise. The fucking squares never listened to my loud and excited exclamations about life and the penetration of the unknown. Me being a teenager, adults didn’t give a shit about what I had to say, fellow teenagers blew me off, not even my friends cared. To them I was just the overtly eccentric chick with a pretty face but nothing much else to say. “Oh, well she doesn’t cut like us. She isn’t depressed, she doesn’t know. We’re gonna go get high with Joe on Friday.” Well Fuck Joe! I know depression, I know self mutilation, I know total fucking rage. No one listened; no one wanted to really talk, human to human. But then I met Hugh, I met the beautiful boy with the mysterious stance and lovely smile and he listened to everything I said, every fucking word.
“Hello. It’s ah, quite the pleasure to meet you.” I smacked my hand against his and we shook jerkily and I couldn’t help but smile like mad, the guy was so shy. He saw my grin and blushed and was very darling. A girl was necking with a guy against a wall and giggling; we were at a party.
Oh god. Him standing there biting his lip, he made my heart beat faster and I started to sweat. He had straight black hair that flowed down chin length and sharp brown eyes behind his lenses. With ripe red cherry lips and porcelain pale skin, ooh and lovely hands. His nose sloped out and reminded me of an eagle with his oval eyes, I loved it. I almost laughed, partly in amusement and partly in attraction, for the guy was wearing a bright fuzzy yellow cardigan and green corduroy pants. Oh, and sandals with socks. The clothes clang perfectly on him too, hanging just right over his shoulders and against his leanness. He was the sun.
“You know…I just saw you standing here alone and I thought you were very ah…I don’t know something about your just looked very ahm, poetic?” He shuffled his feet and look at the floor, then looked up real quick. “And very beautiful.”
“Wow, thanks Hugh. That’s sweet of you. Hey, ah…” I couldn’t help asking just because I had never really liked shy people even though as a child I was one of them. “Are you always this shy or…”
“Oh no! Oh god no. I’m stoned right now actually,” he used his hands to talk and for some reason started to whisper, I don’t know why and he didn’t either. I was surprised to the point I laughed at his jittery boyish nervousness. Apparently he wasn’t as shy as I had thought. “Not that…that has much to do with anything. I suppose. I just sometimes get very quiet when I smoke. But ahm, wow right now all of a sudden I feel very talkative. I guess you just set it off in me…”
“Hey well, that’s cool. I was hoping you were gonna start talking to me instead of the floor for a sec.” he smiled as I spoke. We were cool. “But anyway, ah yeah, the only thing I gotta request is that next time you get high, you’ve got to share the wealth.”
He laughed and started digging into his pockets. “It’s here somewhere…” he pulled a small bag out of his pocket and put it in my hand. Then he reached around again and pulled out a pipe. “I’ve got time now. How about you?”
We left the house without saying goodbye and started off down the street. “My father grows the stuff like they’re fucking peas.” He half-jokingly informed. “So every now and then he gives me some. Not enough to really sustain any kind of pot smoker status though.” He took a deep breathe and looked at me. “Not that I have any current status as it is…God why the fuck am I talking so much…wow.”
“Fuck status.” He nodded eagerly. “No Hugh, I’m really enjoying this. I like the sound of your voice and you’re drop dead beautiful so that helps block out the bullshit.” We laughed and he held my hand in the afternoon sun. Finally we reached The Garden which is a little park with basketball courts and swing sets. A cute baby played with a pink balloon in the sand and we went in the men’s restroom to smoke.
We laughed like crazy and thank god I didn’t have a dick because the guy made me so fucking hot I would’ve gotten a huge boner. I told him this as we walked away from the park and as he listened he tripped on an uneven crack in the sidewalk and fell flat on his face. More hysterical laughter. “Gosh damn!” he hollered. “Well I get a boner just talking to you.” Things continued like this for the next two hours which contained the most interesting conversation of my life until his mother came to pick him up. Her name was Etta and she had his dark brown eyes and was very maternal. They had to go get his sister her birthday gift. She was turning ten. Whatever, I walked the streets for two more hours after that just thinking about Hugh and his face and him talking; his life radiating from his soul and into mine. We had exchanged phone numbers. Fuck that wait three days bullshit, I was going to call him tonight.
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