Tuesday 24 August 2010

Shitter

talkies

3:40 AM Thursday. Hospital room. Drank alcohol. Not the brewed one but distilled. Fuck. It was distilled. For external use only. They sucked it all from her stomach. She wanted to die but not strong enough to pull it off. Or an abrupt attempt to kill herself but couldn’t finish the whole thing. I guess too much of this thing called love could kill you. Love. Delirium. Shit.


4:00PM Sunday. Deckard and Lana in a random coffee place.

“You really tried drinking isoprophyl alcohol, How was it?” Ill timed jokes are his specialty and he gets away with it.
“Not funny” “Let it go.”
“Ok, are you back together?” Trying to be serious but still smirking.
“Sort of.” She can’t describe what’s really going on.
“Don’t ya think that’s guilt on his part?”
“I'm not pushing it.”
“You better.” “This is just shitty.” “I haven’t met anybody too delirious.” “You are fucking delirious."
“Sorry, I don’t find anything about you that catches my fancy.” “No offense.” She lights another one trying to finish off the pack.
“None taken.” “And those dolphin tattoos are wicked.”
“Are you a twelve year old?” “I’m going to alter these or even erase it.” Smiling at Deckard’s childish comments. After all, he is a 12 year old trapped in a twenty thirty something body.
“Don’t worry about it.” “You’re still the most adorable shit head of all.” She continued.
”That’s reassuring.”
“Well, HE thought of the design.” “I’ll alter it.” “Just like Johnny Depp’s”.
“Fine.” “You could do that Celtic thing.” “It would look way cooler.”
“Wickeder?” trying to speak his alien language.
“If there’s such a word, fucking yes.”
“There is.” “I’m fucking sure.” She smiles a bit. Those half smiles.
“Now, that’s not a scowl, is it?” “Fuck, she smiled!” “The heavens would be pouring soon!”
“Fucking hell.” “You’re the most adorable asshole ever.” “Thanks for listening.” Hitting him in the head.
“Thanks for the trust.” “I’ll tell everyone about it.” “I’ll blog about it.” “I’ll write a book about it.”
“Well, go ahead.” “You’re not going to finish it.”
“Why so?” He hit her in the shoulder playfully.
“You always have the best ideas, best answers, but you are the worst finisher.” mocking him.
“Since when do you start noticing shit about me.” He asks.
“Just a bit” she said.”

Just a fucking bit.