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[01 Jan 2002|03:57pm] |
words for the jilted nation of silent friendships #1
We poured our hearts out that night unintentionally, she and i, perched four stories into the air with our feet dangling over the edges of the window. it was cold, and our two other roomates mumbled angrily from under layers of pillows and blankets, "Shut the fuck up you twats, and close the goddamn window." Eventually they fell asleep and the only sounds that could be heard were our whispers, and the blaring horns and hasty voices, four stories below us.
It was almost hard to talk at first. not just because we'd just had holes punched through our lips and tongues, but because we were two girls, with the exact same story, word for word. there was never any in depth conversation between us, because mirrored circumstances bored us. in the span of four years we never had an arguement or disagreement. We were so alike that we never asked each other for advice. I was always just as clueless as she was.
We tried to smoke, but our swollen mouths got in the way. I could handle it though. The pain of not having a cigarette would have hurt much more than the pain of the piercing. We nestled our hands in pairs of white socks we stole from one of the other girls. Neither she not i had brought anything sensible with us, gloves, scarves, socks, decent shoes, etc. Everyone else looked at us strange, who on earth that girl is wearing flip flops, and why on earth is that girl wearing a skirt, in 28 degree weather? Our roomates laughed at us as they piled on layers of mismatched clothes, putting comfort before style, risking their pride by wearing no-name sneakers, those hideous ski hats, and carrying mini backpacks on their front, not on their backs. We laughed at them as they walked around the city carrying maps, disposable cameras, reaching into their fanny packs to produce twenties with which they would purchase a t-shirt with the american flag on it, as if you couldn't get one anywhere else in this country. We laughed as they bought either the cheesiest souviniers possible, or mundane, generic items which could be found in any Wal-Mart in any city in any state We laughed as they clutched their purses at every person on the subway, petrified that they would be mugged and beaten to death, or as they waited three and a half hours to eat at a ridiculously overpriced restaurant, which is part of a national chain. Most of all, we laughed as they came back to the Edison wondering why everyone thought they were small tourist children, looking for their parents.
We had a certain worldliness about us, we were women who didn't want to talk about the perils of womanhood, we were women who wanted to talk about much more important things, like Roberto Cavalli's new line, or how to give better blow jobs, or whether or not i should get breasts implants and become a private dancer. We talked that night about everything from one night stands, to why we never had a single conversation in four years that had any substance in it. That night we discovered something about our friendship, it was the only one we've ever had where we didn't have to talk about our problems, because we used the friendship as an escape from them.
She and i were warriors, we were both cynical and outlandish, impatient and at times, childish, but nonetheless, emotionally cold and bitter, cruel and unforgiving. We knew the wonders of love, and we knew how love can take a big nasty shit all over your life and leave you to clean it up. I knew how someone had hurt her once, she knew how someone had hurt me once too. We knew what it was like to struggle between the artist and the scientist, the actor and the critic, the most challanging internal conflict we'd ever faced. We favored anything over reason, and we both had this genuine naivity that will probably never leave us.
That night it was thirty one degrees outside, plus wind chill. We shivered and smoked our final cigarette, looked out at the amazing scene below us, closed the goddamn window, and went to bed. --
your holiday spirit is running low.
New Year's Eves meant nothing, just another excuse to get fucked up and not have to go to school for another couple of days. My first actual New Year's was when i was 13, because before that i would just stay at home with my family and watch the Disney channel or something. That night I performed my latest hobby, getting drunk in the wine cellar of Patty's house, and by midnight we were passed out. i didn't see the ball drop.
When i was 14, i went to a party at this kid Mike's house. He was rich and had lots of really good drugs, by midnight i had smoked myself into oblivion, listening to Marilyn Manson, and planning to lose my virginity the next day. i didn't see the ball drop.
When i was 15, i went to a party at this girl Mary's house. i knew her from private school, she was a good girl because her parents wanted her to be, but i could always see she had an inner bitch, a fire of violence and drama brewing inside her, but she hid it behind a sheild of t-shirts that said things like "It isn't easy being a princess" and "Cutie." i shared a bottle of parrot bay with this kid john, and by midnight i was breaking bottles with him in the middle of the street, while everyone else was inside making out. i didn't see the ball drop. When i was 16, i got food poisoning. i had plans to hang out with these two girls, and i should have cancelled them, but it was the millenium. i went to their house to get ready but i ended up fainting. my father had to pick me up, he carried me from inside their house to his car. It was the only time my father's ever carried me that i can recall. He took me home, where i threw up every hour. i slept through the day and evening, and by midnight, i was still asleep. i didn't see the ball drop. When i was 17, my parents told me to be careful. That was it. I could have done anything, my head was so fucking filled with
ideals about this one night, and expecting this unforgetable night filled with hysteria and insanity. Armed with a thick head and no curfew, i planned an evening of delinquency. The plans fell through and i ended up getting drunk with my sister, her friend Katie, and my then boyfriend, Adam. We drank and talked and laughed, except Adam, who just sat there, and by midnight, i was in my room with him slow dancing to a Red Stars Theory song, hearing my sister and Katie scream and yell, followed by a loud thump and laughter.
i didn't see the ball drop. When i was 18, and i am right now too, i had one intention. One and only one. To get obliterated with alcohol and hardly be able to remember the night. i did get drunk somewhere in the night, but not as drunk as i wish i was. By midnight, i was in Melissa's aunt's kitchen, looking at the clock even though i can't tell time, then looking at her, shrugging, and saying happy new year to a bunch of people i don't know. the night went in waves. it started out great, then it got even better, then it got insanely great, then it got mediocre, then ghastly, then akward, then suddenly monumental, comforting, emotional, and at last, musically infinite. i talked a lot, i had some conversations, which i will always remember. i had an amazing night, weird but amazing. i fell in love with friendship, and appreciated the air in my lungs for the first time in my life. i'm happy to be alive and young. i still didn't see the ball drop. --
MiamiKika: it was a crazy nite but the best
new years i've had since i was with someone
i actually wanted to be with
im not THAT hot: i was with someone special too.
im not THAT hot: his name is beer.
MiamiKika: i think i know him
im not THAT hot: and he is so good to me.
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indescribable
rejuvenated