It’s that once-a-week cigarette. The one that makes you want to shit; the buzz that makes you feel like you might fall through the ground. That’s a good feeling – frightening and exhilarating. But, you don’t want to vomit, so you take it slow. Two months ago I’d have felt guilty about it. Now, I don’t care. I want to see life different: take care of myself, work, and enjoy things. “One cigarette won’t kill me.” If it does there’s an injustice in the world, and I refuse to abide.
My feet are wet from the quick and recent hail. A kid rides up the street on a miniature Vespa. (I remember that I never had a Power Wheels). The sky is getting dark, and at this time of night I would think it would be darker. The lightening is so far away that the thunder is almost inaudible – a single strobe silhouetting the clouds for only a moment. It has no origin. It is here, and then it is there.
I ran 5k today. Then I threw out my back and fucked up my knee getting into a car. The pain has been absolved by a few beers and laughter. We watched Casino and it was just as fucking awesome as it was the first time: in the theater, my arm around R_____ L____. Three hours later with a stiff shoulder because she insisted on sitting on my left. She was a girl I would come to love. She is married now.
If I can walk tomorrow it will be a change of pace. Normally this pain renders my legs without mobility. If it gets worse it will spread to the front of my hips, and then down the front of my thighs. I have pinched a nerve – my hips are now misaligned. I know this pain well.
I want to smoke again. Though, I know the second will be lackluster, so I won’t. Instead, I may have another drink. I bought a bag of Cheddar & Sour Cream Ruffles on Friday night. I don’t know why since normally I wouldn’t, and the girl whom I was with was cute enough to say I couldn’t eat them in her bed. We made-out in an alley. Eventually we noticed someone watching from a block away – just a figure on the stoop, smoking, wearing a purple-and-black striped shirt. We laughed. This added to the moment.
These are the things that matter. Attraction is wonderful, and it works, but it is short-lived trickery unless we are shallow. It is in moments that we know ourselves and the people we come to adore. We ask friends to interpret the words and actions of our lovers (as if we don’t have the wisdom to answer ourselves) what does this mean, what does that mean? We know the answers, but unsatisfied we long to be contradicted. We rarely are. The poison is always on our plate. It is labeled as such. Sometimes we simply choose to be illiterate.