billybillybilly

i've been in high spirits lately (or something)

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oh girl (*sigh* [envision a long rewarding exhale...]), i wanna take you to a gay bar.

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in the dream...

party is filled, brimming, people who at one time or another i've wanted very much to get to know, to understand. the heros of my everydays. i don't remember them specific, just fuzzed faces. gloomy lighting. minimalist interior, musty like a basement. in a basement.

it's winter outside, guessing.

this princess enters, walks in and the room changes, but the steps are subtle. i stand by as she mingles, that face smiling everything beneath it boils. i walk behind a comfortable distance. everyone so glad, so happy to be in marvelous company. they're right, but they're fools clamoring.

then on an upper level. everyone is upstairs, but not in this particular room. walks into the bathroom, i follow.

she reluctantly allows me in, ties up a scarf in a knot and her face is white like death. this is the part that takes so long, this is why we're away for so long. tying rope for hours on end, but only holds a single knot. cooks and kills and shoots another good memory dead, but i don't watch it happen.

back in the basement now, and everyone's wondering why these relationships have been so sick. everyone wants to understand her, pale and elusive. incriminating inquisitive glares and not for them, but with them sweat forms on her back and arms and forehead.

it ends with a conversation, but the conversation is a metaphor that only works in theory.

fade to awake.

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stolichnaya vanil. two people. to-night.

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wake me up when you get here.