Monday, April 19

We drove along the highway listening to Tom Waits. Dead lilacs hung from the broken rear-view mirror. Brief recollections of You and I by the water, when I dropped the bloom into the sea.
"You were waiting for the right moment?"
"Yep. That was it."
"That was a good moment."
The mood was wierd. It was raining outside; me in a t-shirt. Discussing the mechanics of cooking Quizno's chicken. The rest of the car filled with guys. When's the last time I was with one of my own kind?

I saw Kill Bill that night and it rocked my socks in a style unlike any other sock-rocking. I'm so lame. Fuck though, I almost died of sheer pleasure from watching that film. I love those kinds of movies.

I dreamed we were swimming beside docks in milky-black water. Two of us, then a third. She came from nowhere and set fire to a heart you told me was forever cold. She took you away, but still close enough so I could feel that indifferent pain in the base of my spine. I got out of the water and walked away, which is probably what I would do had this have been in real life. I didn't look back. When I woke up, I still harboured some vague sense of hatred for that girl in the water. Maybe this is the end, I thought. When dreams of you slip from intoxicating to intolerable.