Thursday, 20 October 2011

Scratch My Back

So, it's been a while. Quick quick update on my life: work uni work party uni work party. In short, I've been very busy, but as anyone who's read my blog from the beginning of beginnings, you should know I have a constant stream of bizarre crap in my head and quite frankly if I were to put that on Facebook I'm sure my friends would ship me off to a mental hospital.
I've got a mouth full of diamonds and a pocket full of secrets.

The boy is scared of the girl, but the girl misses her mother. They undress each other and with it goes their childhood, socks and all. For a second they'll forget how they were taught to strive for the impossible, to feel homesick for a place that doesn't, never has and never will, exist.
I wish I could kiss you like I did back when I believed in victory and death and destiny.

I've always felt a little alone my whole life, but never lonely. Especially a while ago, oh I was the happiest girl you'd know. I've felt little pokes of the old man's solitude. You know the one that claws up your throat and makes it hard to breathe, when you stand alone in your kitchen and know that there is no one in the house, no one you can call and no one you can talk to. The one that makes you want to reach for a bottle but you don't because you know alcoholism runs in your family and girl, you don't want to go down that road. Oh but I do. I won't.

When I was a child I used to run out of school on breaks with my best friend, we would go find a fountain that was of course, frozen, it being Finland and all. We sat there for the whole lesson until one day my teacher found us. We were 9 and being 9, I didn't know what was wrong or right or kind of wrong or a bit right or somewhere in between. I said it was all my friend's fault- I've been paying for it ever since and in the future, I believe I'll always try and take the blame.
We also used to make concoctions with chemicals and things, then see what happens. Once I forgot it in my pocket and it exploded in the bus. That stuff smelled horrible, I think it had washing powder, some CIV liquid, and some other random crap.
No wonder our Finnish teacher kept a bottle of vodka in the cupboard. He was sacked for paedophilia.

Tomorrow I'll wake up with the usual shaking and shivering and a mouth full of diamonds or- dry hay.
Drunkard thought my mother was my boyfriend.

Maybe I'm doing this to lessen the old man's solitude. Make it more a post-break up loneliness. I broke up with my family, they moved away. I've been dumped.
The boy fears the girl who misses her mother.
The girl who misses her mother doesn't even notice the boy, only wants to scratch his back with her sharp red nails to not be alone.

Would you like me to take you away from here?