in spaceships they wont understand
2008-01-26 5:18 a.m.

(this was written to "last nite" by the strokes. this is important information, in my mind.)

i plan to go to bed soon, but i just ate something. i feel it needs time to digest.

today liz died from eating too much quality pizza.

now's the time of night when i ramble some and you grin and bear it:

the boys come back and forth like boys do, here we are, there we go. welcome back. come inside. so i, i turn around, oh babe i don't care no more, i know this for sure, i'm walking out that door,

think about that pool edge. why you got to make our business part of your thesis? who's talking? what else is there? i turn around. there's a quality of edges, and i know it very well.

edge of reason, sure, but also edge of the world, and the earlobe. the earlobe is an edge, too. the earlobe is the weathervane for my whole shaking body, my two shaking hands, all those parts of me we don't discuss, like my cunt.

or your cock in the vicinity. hello, neighbor. borrow some sugar?

when all's said and done, i know, he said, "i'm done." great all right then fine thanks, here's your goody bag, see you next year? good cake, who brought the dip? i liked the dip. i bet you did. open your prezzies.

hit the pinata like you own it, like inside mixed up with the tootsie pops and the laffy taffy is the answer to your stupid face written on one rolled-up scrap of paper.

dearest darling vapor trail of mine, i'll be here when you get bored. you know the furniture's got feet but still won't move on its own. somewhere across the world we do this in unison: drink slowly, breathe impatiently, run our fingers round the rim of the glass.

and like i said, what else? why? two books, weak at the spine, pages ripped out, ink starting to fade.

i'll buy a castle with these magic beans. i'll buy a suitcase. i'll pay for your education. i'll invent us a wheel. i'll leap great distances. i'll drop a dress size. i'll drop it like it's hot.

as for making sense, i don't care if i ever speak to you again but that won't stop me from writing about you or thinking about the edge of your boxers against the lovely stark paper white of your thigh and how much better it all would have been if you weren't a brainless nitwit and i wasn't a hopeless boob.