What about drew?
Ring-
-Ring-
"Hello?"
"I painted my toenails today."
"Who is this?" drew asks.
I sit down and bring my foot up to my mouth to examine the last two tiny nails on the end of my foot. They call these the little toes.
I stare closely at each one and pinch them with what I have for fingernails. They are soft, but rough like the skin that surrounds the nails.
"Who the fuck is this?" drew demands.
"They're this terquoiseish green." I say as I take a bite of the pinky nail's hard skin crust on the outer edge.
"Juli?"
I scratch the front of my teeth, and a little scum and a fleck of the nail polish that was once on my toes is now under my pointer finger nail.
"Bingo." I say.
"Wow, it's been a long time. I honestly thought I would never hear from you again........How are you?"
"You know the biggest blue vein?"
"......yea....."
"When I think about you I want to take a seringe, fill it up with air,, poke myself right in that vein, and wait for the bubble to hit my brain. Just so I don't have to think about you any more."
".......ok...."
If there was a mirror in front of me, I would know that I was smiling a little.
I start to think about my drive home tonight. The rain pounding down on my windshield as I hit the wet curves on river road at 60. The faster and louder the music is, the harder my fancy girly shoes press down on the gas.
"I got new shoes today."
"Why did you call me? It's 4 in the morning."
Rt. 32 is River road.
"Jim bought them for me. They were my christmas present."
"Oh? I haven't seen Jim in a while, how is he? Does he still skate?"
"When Jim thinks about you he wants to kill himself too!" I yell.
I picture drew sitting up in his nasty bed, without any sheets, holding his cell phone away from his ear. I'm sure he's making the dumbest sqinting face and his room is dark and cold.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" drew yells back.
"Now up is down, and back is fourth. You've fucked me in the head. I'm perminately damaged. All my abstract thoughts come back to you. My muse is an imaginary person. You don't even exist."
"Why the fuck do you always say that? I'm fucking real! I'll bleed on you, cause I know that what you would like. OR maybe that might kill you, the affirmation that I am in fact a real person and all your little fantasys about me were real, and you're just to crazy to accept them."
"........."
I'm holding my breath and couting to five.
"What ever the case may be this is steve's fault much more then mine."
I twist my head back and to the left till I feel my neck pop. I look over and stare at Randal who's curled up in a little ball in the middle of my carpet.
"Down loaded any kiddy porn lately?"
"You always come back to that..."
".....well have you? It's a ligitimate question!"
"I don't know, have you gone on any stalking sprees at 7 O'Clock in the morning again? Cause we know how you love to do that."
"Back off. I've been good lately. I've found someone new."
"New people to control and puppet are like drugs to you aren't they?"
"Sometimes. Other times I am productive. I'm usually only bad when I am on drugs."
"Who's new, do I know them?"
"No!" I say as I gaze in to my rear view mirror and look at the dark shadows under my eyes, and how hollow my cheeks look.
"Juli, why did you call?"
"Cause I wanted you to know that even now, months later 3 am, you're causing me pain."
"Well boo fucking hoo."
My foot goes down harder on the gas pedal.
"I can hear you're in your car, I bet if I look outside I'll see you there."
Right now I don't feel like being.
"If you're outside you crazy bitch I'm calling the fucking cops."
I always foget how annoying your voice gets and I trail away...off into my own thoughts. Andy Noga pops in my head, thoughts of us walking talking about the same things we always talked about that never seemed to get boring. Suddenly I feel quite vacant.
Empty.
Abandoned.
I think back to all men and all the time I spent with those when it was just never enough.
I'm thinking of numbers running through my head of ones who've been happy fucking, and others who hate me for it.
The numbers high, and I feel dirty.
If men were worth anything, I'd gamble with them. A rich one with a big dick would be a 100. Then it's all down hill from there. I'd play poker all night long playing for men.
To bad they're not worth anything.
Right now, I don't really feel like much of anything.
"Why the fuck weren't you ever put on medication?"
"Cause medication is there to make people with to much control over their own lives have less."
Right now I'm in control.
I steer left somewhere along the Deleware river and slam in to a tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment