Bullet by bullet
February 23, 2009
I made some lists.
There were important names I couldn’t remember, people and events reduced to condensation on a table, initials, furtive glances at phonebooks.
I spent the actual day of my 21st with G.H. in the harsh magenta focus of a billboard laughing as we read print 15 storeys down, so it’s disconcerting that he became a sarcastic text message blasting an opinion I couldn’t decipher (only the punctuation, “?!” at the end of passive-aggressive politeness).
I think you never trusted me because you thought you were another 8 digits I would never dial again. Certainly I don’t think I will. Yet God knows where you stand, at that privileged point reserved for, really now, besides you only Andrew: ask and you shall receive. Ask me to end the list at you. Ask me to take your name off it. Ask me why you’re even on a list at all. You won’t ask. I’m so relieved, don’t ask. More and more I don’t like your accidental hold on me, more and more I want to reject the abortive streak that characterized the person you couldn’t bring yourself to take a good look at. You shook awake something sad, wonderful and necessary in me and I resent and adore you for it.
No one is a replacement for anyone else, but some nights all of you echo one another and I feel like a greying hearth cat watching imaginary faces in the fire.
I had a great weekend, apart from this maddening list I shouldn’t have made. I don’t like lists.
April 22, 2009 at 6:50 am
I ran my mouth off a bit too much
oh, what did i say.
But you just laughed it off,
it was all okay.
April 27, 2009 at 10:47 pm
Warwick eh… So is this Shar, Smalley or just someone kind?
Curiously enough my lovely friend Raina quoted Float On in one of her posts on the same day.
December 13, 2009 at 9:55 pm
Wow, I didn’t heard about that until now. Thx!!