Saturday, August 26, 2006
I'll be your friend, Zoidberg
You're an asshole, you know that?
And I'm a fool, the world's biggest fool.
I had a dream like Athena's, where the golden coin of a sun bursts onto the horizon and she cries. It was a beautiful dream, especially since it's never, ever going to happen. You asshole.
No reply for nearly 12 hours. Then, a brusque brush-off, carefully worded to not sound like, "I'm busy, bitch. Leave me alone." I return the hit, I say "It's ok, I'm sorry to hear that. I am too." but the rally stops right... there.
I'm not distraught, no freaking way. I'm just not happy. I go home and cry on my sister's shoulder, but it's not weeping or sobbing, it's more of a few seconds of puddling of wetness in my bottom lids and a "Fuck it! Girl's night out!"
So we dress up and head to Crown to watch Thank You For Smoking. (Hey Qm and JW - you guys watched that right? Let's have a chat about it - it's pretty interesting except the actor playing Naylor's son is such a bad actor you can actually see the cogs in his brain move as he recites, I swear, RECITES, his lines.)
So now I wait. I've waited all my life, so it's ok. Ball is in his court now (resisting urge to make dirty joke) If he serves, I'll return; if he doesn't, we'll call it a game. I'm not a strong person, but I claw and drag myself back to (so-called) normality. I'll sit in my own circle, I'll think of diffraction and inteference and the photoelectric effect; I'll think of amino acids and emulsifiers and antioxidants and browning avocados; I'll think of Oedipus and Jocasta and the cruel, cruel gods; I'll think of Chiang and Mao and Lenin and Trotsky and Five Year Plans; I'll think of Lear mad in the storm, of Athena and Dexter and Philip and Vicki in their worlds of order and disorder, hell, I'll even think of that pitiful coin of sun bursting on the horizon, because it's a metaphor for... nevermind.
And I'll be Ok.
And I'm a fool, the world's biggest fool.
I had a dream like Athena's, where the golden coin of a sun bursts onto the horizon and she cries. It was a beautiful dream, especially since it's never, ever going to happen. You asshole.
No reply for nearly 12 hours. Then, a brusque brush-off, carefully worded to not sound like, "I'm busy, bitch. Leave me alone." I return the hit, I say "It's ok, I'm sorry to hear that. I am too." but the rally stops right... there.
I'm not distraught, no freaking way. I'm just not happy. I go home and cry on my sister's shoulder, but it's not weeping or sobbing, it's more of a few seconds of puddling of wetness in my bottom lids and a "Fuck it! Girl's night out!"
So we dress up and head to Crown to watch Thank You For Smoking. (Hey Qm and JW - you guys watched that right? Let's have a chat about it - it's pretty interesting except the actor playing Naylor's son is such a bad actor you can actually see the cogs in his brain move as he recites, I swear, RECITES, his lines.)
So now I wait. I've waited all my life, so it's ok. Ball is in his court now (resisting urge to make dirty joke) If he serves, I'll return; if he doesn't, we'll call it a game. I'm not a strong person, but I claw and drag myself back to (so-called) normality. I'll sit in my own circle, I'll think of diffraction and inteference and the photoelectric effect; I'll think of amino acids and emulsifiers and antioxidants and browning avocados; I'll think of Oedipus and Jocasta and the cruel, cruel gods; I'll think of Chiang and Mao and Lenin and Trotsky and Five Year Plans; I'll think of Lear mad in the storm, of Athena and Dexter and Philip and Vicki in their worlds of order and disorder, hell, I'll even think of that pitiful coin of sun bursting on the horizon, because it's a metaphor for... nevermind.
And I'll be Ok.
Labels: Boys
# posted by me lah @ 9:15 am 
