This Song Is Everywhere
She says she'll be going out with a friend today, a friend with a girl's name. Here's the song on the radio in the car. The volume goes up.
Her phone rings. It's her friend. The volume goes down.
I know who it really is. It's the same friend, the very same person she was with, drunk in the woods, the night before. Maybe if his voice were deeper I would be able to hear him. Maybe it's lost in the bass. She says she can't meet him at nine, she'll have to be home. She sounds so harmless on the phone. I can hear that little layer of winking that means what they were up to twelve hours ago.
She's creepy and calculating talking to me. She says she failed the test and my ex-boyfriend was smoking pot. Maybe she did, and she doesn't care. Maybe he was, and it would be a waste of my time to care. She says there's no reason to live free of that terrific tangle of drugs and sex. She's so caught up that she's not responding to questions. Maybe she would be jealous of me if she believed I exist. I'm picturing her twitching on the floor with her sweatshirt unzipped. Every one of her ribs would show.
Her phone call's over. I'm the only one wearing a seat belt. The volume goes back up. We're going to crash and I'm going to leave her.
When we were young, I respected her and we pushed each other around the basement on rolling chairs until we fell over.
Her phone rings. It's her friend. The volume goes down.
I know who it really is. It's the same friend, the very same person she was with, drunk in the woods, the night before. Maybe if his voice were deeper I would be able to hear him. Maybe it's lost in the bass. She says she can't meet him at nine, she'll have to be home. She sounds so harmless on the phone. I can hear that little layer of winking that means what they were up to twelve hours ago.
She's creepy and calculating talking to me. She says she failed the test and my ex-boyfriend was smoking pot. Maybe she did, and she doesn't care. Maybe he was, and it would be a waste of my time to care. She says there's no reason to live free of that terrific tangle of drugs and sex. She's so caught up that she's not responding to questions. Maybe she would be jealous of me if she believed I exist. I'm picturing her twitching on the floor with her sweatshirt unzipped. Every one of her ribs would show.
Her phone call's over. I'm the only one wearing a seat belt. The volume goes back up. We're going to crash and I'm going to leave her.
When we were young, I respected her and we pushed each other around the basement on rolling chairs until we fell over.
I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know
- The Killers, "When You Were Young"
posted by Anna at 8:17 PM
7 Comments:
Why would I ever want a castle?
This is worth more and costs less.
if you're not a journalist in 4 years.
i dont know what the world would be coming to.
i havent seen you around school lately
well i havent been around school lately either.
but still.
maybe tomorrow <3
i know what you mean in your blog
friends you've had forever
seems pointless now.
i'd save myself too and walk away.
friends change from childhood, i've learned that the hardway
i would apriciate it if you didn't hate me, irrelevant, i suppose, but still on my mind when i think about you.
She'll come around; the transistion from youth to adulthood is not always graceful.
Hey, I probably should have told you this before, but I quit AIM. So yeah..
yarr, dump 'er
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