Monday, December 13, 2010

Thought Process...

My phone rings. I ignore the text for the time being. The conversation between three friends is more important right now. Video games, school, girls, bitching...The usual talk. I start to phase out. Happens a lot. I stand up and walk over to my guitar. I realize how sad it is that it's the only gorgeous thing that I can hold on too. I stop for a moment. I smile and say to myself "It's not sad". One of my friends looks over. I tell him to grab his bass, so we can play. Sex and Candy. A few hiccups, but none the less pretty solid for being new. Start to play one of my own. This sounds good. I can tell. I feel calm and relaxed. euphoric even. My phone rings. I check the text. It's the same person. I don't care what he wants. My phone rings. He's being persistent. I check my phone its not him. "Shit" I have twenty minutes. That relaxed feeling slips away. I take a fast shower, dry off, and walk into my room. I look at my other friend "What should I wear?". He looks at me and grimaces "Why does it matter?". Hes no help. I pick up a red t-shirt. No. Black. My go to color. Slimming. I look at him again "Flannel?". Same look "Again. Why does it matter?". Long pause. "Fuck you" slips out. We both laugh. Mine fake. I need help. I feel hopeless. I shake it off. Encouraging thoughts. I'm cool, classy. Nothing to prove. I don't believe it. Everything to prove. I pick up my guitar again to settle myself down. The Wind Cries Mary. Fingers don't want to move. They're stiff and rigid. struggle through the song. I walk out to the bar. Grab a drink. The door opens. I give an awkward smile. Wasn't a smart move. Small talk starts. more awkward smiles. Drinking games. Win, Win, Lose. I walk to my room. No idea why. I sit at my desk and turn itunes on. Pretty Lights. I Can See It In Your Face. I sit and jam out to the song for awhile. I phase out again. I realize why I'm here. I walk to the bar again, and everyone seems to be having fun. Great. I loosen up. Grab a drink. I loosen up even more. Grab a drink. Game plan. No need for one. I'm a great guy I can do this. More drinking games. I hit that point. Damn. Jealousy sets in. All down hill.

1 comment:

  1. Just so you know, I really enjoy reading your blog. Fuck grammar, what you write is interesting and always good.