we can do some wrecking here
laura veirs’ “wrecking” is too much of a movie soundtrack to not fall back into cinematic memories while i’m passing the café at 1:30 in the morning. no snow, but cloudless pure black sky and ice on the cars. thinking back to that night when s. (the other s.) slipped me the sheet of paper with the phone number. it seems like ages ago. i’ve become much more cynical and bitter since then.
spent the evening at n.’s place, drinking martinis and eating chocolate, listening to aimee mann. we were sitting next to each other on the sofa, and i think i wouldn’t have minded if n. had leaned forward and kissed. or had i? it’s all so confusing. i think i might have been expected to do so. i have to get it straight what it is that i want. i have to make up my mind what is best for me. and everybody else involved. sometimes i feel like throwing a shirt and pants into a suitcase and fly to some country on the other side of the earth, starting a new life where nobody knows me, starting anew, starting something simple, without the confusion and complications in this broken place, this broken place.
i’ve pulled the large hood over my head, it frames my field of vision with a fake fur circle. i look like paul simon and can’t really see anything except straigh ahead. to look left and right i have to turn my entire upper body. crossing the street i don’t really mind and just hurry on without checking for cars.
