Idyll; Chapter 3

Graffiti, Stale ink and a New Genius.

The morning has only just begun and there is an earthquake on the psyche.
Noah is constantly pestering me to make something of myself, but I'd rather just lie here in a sweat. Did you know laughter reverbs quite well?
I had no idea that soundwaves could cause physical pain.
Morning time and once more we have no sustenance. I guess it's time for a walk.

The buildings we know belong to nobody and everybody.
The streets we know are littered with text no one wants to read.
Yes, this town we know is filled with everything your parents told you to stay away from. Scum and Cake. Sugar never tasted so sweet.

Hand in hand, Carys and I are dragging down the pavement, attempting to keep up with Noah. It's hard to walk next to someone who's so strung out on dynamite. Brother is proud of him, even though it's only 11 am.
I can name 3 kids who aren't allergic to dust.

He's rambling. I'm zoning.

"Tonight."

"Crash."

"Angel."

"Dino."

"F**k."

"Party."

"Grass."

7 words is all I'll ever catch on these mornings.

The typical site of us, ragged and cold, usually forces the storeowners to watch us carefully, but it never seems to work.
Walk in.
Walk out.
Bing, bang, boom. All of us are fed for another week.
Occasionally we have time for a few odds and ends, things to gain us rolling cash. Pawn shops don't discriminate here.
And this, dear listeners, is where you come in.
Occasionally We'll go blind and believe you are a store. Tell myself I'm justified so I won't hate myself later.
Windows break easy and people with tathered shoes can run faster than you would imagine.

I know some of you will look at my life as a waste, a mishap, or even an abuse of power. You're all wrong.
I live for her and I both the same. I do what I need to, just like you do.
You goto school. You goto work. You train yourself for the 'real world', so you can provide for yourselves, your friends and family.
That's all I've done. I've slipped and fallen into the real world and I DO provide for myself, my friends AND my family. My friends ARE my family and I would gladly die for them.
The methods I go about it may be different, but that doesn't make them 'bad'.

Education was always second rate for some of us; For others...well, at least they tried. Not to say that school was a waste of time, but history repeats itself. I couldn't be tied down to a text book if Hitler were to return from the rehab clinic.
Nor could she. Communism and Totalitarinism are one in the same on our lands.
Bruises don't just "appear".
People don't fall down stairs as often as we say we do.
Dishes don't just fly off of the table at you.

F**k you, Jack Daniels.
F**k you and your bittersweet irony.

But it is a shame the windows stayed in tact...Those nights, I never really wanted to look at myself.
But alas, it was my fault.
It always was. No matter what I did, or who I helped, I was the cause of alcoholism. I was the cause of ear shattering yells. I was the cause or tyranny.
It was all my f*****g fault.

14 failed suicide attempts later; God isn't listening. Never was, never will be.
I'll have to crank up the volume so that m**********r pays attention.
Selfishness is not one of my virtues.

The only difference for her and I was the distance.
And it's true. I guess the internet holds secrets you'll never fathom.
But that's a story for next time.

As for the other three, that's a completely different story I'll get into later.




I've got to get ready for tonight.

Reviews

[Bella Cohen]

This just keeps getting better and better, honey. Seriously. I'm enjoying this immensely, and I really like the pace. I know I said that already, but it's true. It's so quick-witted and real... I haven't read anything like this in quite a while and I'm so excited to read more!