is this college?
on the balcony:
"wait, you go to usc?"
"yeah. do you?"
"i mean, i dont know"
"well, do you go there?"
"sometimes"
"when you go there do you take classes?"
"yeah, i suppose"
"?"
...
"he's just mentally checked out"
(god i love it when things i never knew that i knew are verbalized with such precision and simplicity)
in the kitchen:
"SHE USES VA-AH-AH-SALINE"
(laughing so hard the dirt spots on the floor begin to take the form of the notes of the Flaming Lips song as he sung it, one foot on my body like i was a speaker)
on the stairs:
she looked tiny and familiar, like she was jennifer my fragile cold-cream-skinned babysitter, like she should be able to take care of me.
"i dont know what to say"
...
"i dont either."
outside ryans room:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
hehehehehehehe
HAWAHARAHAWHAR
huhuhuhuhuhuhu
coming from the balcony above, a farmyard collection of laughs, all different and hysterical as separate entities.
my room:
its 4 am. i let them see the part of my plate that i hide from myself. it was jagged and unpretty, and they stood there and ate it and they didnt tell me it was uncooked, or overcooked, or not to their taste, or that they were already full. it was one of the first times since lauren that someone has let it actually nourish them. how could it have gotten better? with ryan dropping crumbs on the floor, with nick leaving the chandalier lights in my room on that eerie low hum and ryan running back to turn on the spotlight lights. with laughing so hard that it puts the tears back inside of you
so you can be ready again.
"wait, you go to usc?"
"yeah. do you?"
"i mean, i dont know"
"well, do you go there?"
"sometimes"
"when you go there do you take classes?"
"yeah, i suppose"
"?"
...
"he's just mentally checked out"
(god i love it when things i never knew that i knew are verbalized with such precision and simplicity)
in the kitchen:
"SHE USES VA-AH-AH-SALINE"
(laughing so hard the dirt spots on the floor begin to take the form of the notes of the Flaming Lips song as he sung it, one foot on my body like i was a speaker)
on the stairs:
she looked tiny and familiar, like she was jennifer my fragile cold-cream-skinned babysitter, like she should be able to take care of me.
"i dont know what to say"
...
"i dont either."
outside ryans room:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
hehehehehehehe
HAWAHARAHAWHAR
huhuhuhuhuhuhu
coming from the balcony above, a farmyard collection of laughs, all different and hysterical as separate entities.
my room:
its 4 am. i let them see the part of my plate that i hide from myself. it was jagged and unpretty, and they stood there and ate it and they didnt tell me it was uncooked, or overcooked, or not to their taste, or that they were already full. it was one of the first times since lauren that someone has let it actually nourish them. how could it have gotten better? with ryan dropping crumbs on the floor, with nick leaving the chandalier lights in my room on that eerie low hum and ryan running back to turn on the spotlight lights. with laughing so hard that it puts the tears back inside of you
so you can be ready again.
posted by Jessica Baxter | 7:34 PM
1 Comments:
here is a comment for you jessica, since i do read your blog and i think it's great. i loved eye of the storm. the cigarettes and buttermilk were great. my mom eats chili cheese fritos with buttermilk like it's cereal. ew.
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