meandering - funny how i can even find the words
Wednesday, November 13, 2002
so you must take me with you
just say the word
you wont even know i'm there
but if you wont
at least tell me where you're going
i'll see if i can meet you there
Tuesday, November 12, 2002
I’ve got good intentions and I
know what I want to do but I
cant bring myself to talk to you
I just go weak at the knees and I’d
rather you thought of me as
someone to count on…….someone just like you
so I stand around, drinking with you and our friends
you punch my arm and we all laugh
the beer gets spilled and we all stare at the ground
I reach into the back of the car and pass out another round
I wonder if you can see me
Through all that beer in your eyes
I’ve tried a bit harder tonight
Tried to let you see through my disguise
I guess im just a mate to you
There’s nothing else ive ever been
And by the looks of things,
I’ll never be the girl of your dreams
Summer. Hot, sticky Summer. She was all laid out in front of me and all I had to do was take her.
Summer. Blonde, tanned, hot, sweaty, sticky, semi-naked Summer. Her left leg slid up the lounge, her small foot resting against the inside of her right knee. There was a crease where her thigh met her hips, and I wanted to slip my fingers inside the fold, just below the line of her bikini. Summer was all I could see, all I could think of, all I could dream about. She leant up, resting on her elbows and her hair fell softly down her back. I knew she was looking at me, I could tell, even through her sunglasses that her eyes were on me. I felt vulnerable, shifting uncomfortably on the smooth edge of the pool. I decided looking away was the best option… my eyes decided that before my head did. I watched my feet dangling in the water, the cool liquid running through my toes, but I could still see her out of the corner of my eye.
Summer was 15. Summer looked about 18, and I looked 14, exactly how old I was. I felt 14 too, in bathers that covered too much of what I didn’t have.
I watched the boys on the other side of the pool, laughing and splashing each other. it was obvious from the way they looked around that it was an attention seeking device. it seemed to work though, there wasn’t much else to look at anyway. Except Summer. but I couldn’t spend the entire day staring at her, could I?
‘Watch out!!’ I heard it, but it didn’t register, and as I looked up to see where the noise was coming from a huge wave of water rained down over me, the sound of the water almost, but not quite, drowning out the sound of the boys laughing.
My hair was plastered to my face and I was completely soaked. I stood up slowly, grabbed my things and headed for the change rooms, dripping from head to toe.
I sat on the bench inside the small room and looked at my bag, watching my clothes swim in a puddle at the bottom. I kicked it across the room and heard the snap of my sunglasses as it hit the wall.
Well, my day couldn’t get any worse now I guess.
I could hear footsteps. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. I put my head down and hid behind my sopping hair. The footsteps stopped and a shadow fell over me. I waited for it to go away, for the person to find another change room, but they didn’t. Whoever it was must have loved staring at me because they didn’t seem to want to leave.
I looked up slowly, trying to focus on the shadowed outline in the doorway. The glare from the sun hurt my eyes but I could make out the curvy shape of a girl with what seemed to be the perfect body.
Summer walked towards me and smoothed my hair. She lifted my chin and kissed me slowly and softly. I leant into the kiss, amazed and scared, but wanting more. She pulled back and laughed, 'I knew it, you do love me.....I win guys!' and with that she ran from the change rooms, laughing and tossing her shining hair.
I hated her. I loved her though, still. But I went home happy that I had kissed my perfect dream girl, regardless of the circumstances. That may make me a loser, but I have a few seconds of blissful memories to keep me going and sometimes, that's all a person needs.
She was soft. Her lips pressed against my neck and warmth radiated from her body. I thought I felt her breast against my back for a second, but it seemed she pulled away quickly, almost as though she was nervous or scared, and unsure. if that was how she was feeling then I could totally sympathise. I was surprised I wasn’t shaking outwardly because I was definatley shaking on the inside. her hand lay softly on my shoulder and I placed mine on top of it. she was so petite, different, but yet exactly as I had imagined. her hand and mine fitted perfectly together. I turned around and wrapped my arms around her. the feeling of our skin touching was so unbelievably nice, I didn’t want to let go.
I picked her out of the crowd straight away. she was looking left and right, her eyes darting al over the place, searching for something familiar. neither of us had been here before, and neither of us knew what to expect. I hoped that she would be happy to see me. I mean, I knew she would but, I mean really happy. I had already ordered a coffee, and I was sitting towards the back of the room, close to the back exit, just incase I felt the need to run away. that thought neednt have crossed my mind. I wanted to hold her, I needed to be near her.
She was soft and warm but her touch seemed to bite and spark at my skin. Her fingers trailed down my neck, over my shoulder blade, across to the middle of my back and traced the curve of my spine. I turned to face her and she brushed my hair away from my eyes. I looked up at her, sitting with her legs tucked up underneath herself on the bed next to me. She was so warm. She radiated warmth and goodness.
I sat up, resting on my elbows and smiled at her. Her smile made me melt and as she leaned in to kiss me I couldn’t believe my luck.
She was someone I had been friends with for what seemed like years. She had something about her that I was drawn to; a magnetism. Her hand slipped under my body as she lay down beside me and she twirled the end of my hair around in her fingers.
I leant over and kissed her, the first time I had done it off my own back. Our lips touched lightly, just brushing against each other. I opened my eyes as I puled away slightly and out eyes met for a second. We both looked away suddenly and giggled.
There are only so many times you can fold a piece of paper in half, no matter the size and no matter how hard you try. And there are only so many times you can try and fix something by folding over the problems and trying to hide them before the folds are forced and it just doesn’t work anymore.
Alex and Peter had forced their relationship till the edges had frayed and the paper became soft and teared easily, almost disintegrating at a touch. Their little square ball of paper; pieces falling to the ground as if someone was sitting there, rubbing their thumb over and over it, watching the tiny, dirty scraps float down and land in an untidy pile on their polished timber floor.
It was Peter who noticed first, who realised the normally sharp, crisp edges were blurring and the straight clean lines were becoming rounded, messy and uneven. He noticed that Alex’s shoes were worn at the toe and that she hadn’t bothered to get new ones, or even polish them at least. How she had hung her shirt in the closet with only the last two buttons done up, not bothering to button it all the way up to the top and straighten out the creases.
How can she live with herself, he thought, She’s a mess.
Alex was happy. Happier than she’d been in over seven years. There was a time when she felt like this always. As if she was six again, and swinging higher and higher till her feet touched the leaves in the tree above her.
Bare feet all day long, she thought to herself, and kicked her shoes off, watching them land against the white walls and leave a small black mark… she didn’t even wince.
Peter was furious. He noticed it straight away as he walked through the door, placed his keys in the small wooden bowl they had ordered from India, and his wallet on top of his neatly stacked pile of decorating magazines. A small black mark… a scuff… about two centimetres long about 12 centimetres up from his skirting boards. He followed what he imagined would have been the flight of the object that made the mark backwards through the air and his face burned a deep red when his eyes fell on a cheap pair of sandals.
Alex, he called. He could hear her whistling.
He was seething inside and burning outside, his fists clenched tight by his sides.
His shoulders were rising and falling with each of his strained breaths, his chest heaving.
Alex… your shoes…
Alex was sitting on her couch, the one she’d bought from an old antique dealer in her hometown. The one that Peter had made her steam clean several times because he could still smell the musk of the old grey woman who sold it to them in the fabric.
It stinks, he had said, Get rid of it.
I will not get rid of it.
Well, at least get it cleaned again, that woman was unhealthy. I feel dirty just thinking about her.
Alex was staring at her newly painted toenails, watching the sun’s reflection in their shine. Behind her feet she could see the tall ceilings and halogen lights and when she looked ahead she saw the bottom of his coffee table. She smiled when she realised her niece had stuck a sweet to the bottom of the table, and decided to let it stay there.
Peter stormed into the room. He stared at Alex.
Turn yourself around, he ordered, I can’t talk to you when you’re upside down. What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a child.
Alex stared at the grumpy man in the doorway. He definitely looked funnier upside down, and she began to laugh.
Alex, get down from there, please, we need to talk about the walls…and your shoes, and… well your general attitude basically. There’s something very wrong happening here, can’t you see.
Alex just stared at his red face, his close set eyes and his sparse hair… He looked even more like a pig than usual today and at this thought she burst out in a fit of laughter, falling off the lounge and rolling over the rug, knocking his precious coffee table over and cracking it straight through the centre.
Alex and Peter were both very still, their mouths had fallen open and they had both fallen silent. It was Alex who broke out of her shock first.
Bah! She laughed and rolled over onto her back.
Right, that’s it. You’re insane, Peter stormed out of the room, only to return seconds later with, And clean up that mess for God’s sake, which only brought more laughter, more rolling and more happy tears pooling on their designer woolen rug.
Alex pulled herself together and sat up against the wall. She stared at the table, at its broken top, at the knots and whorls in the timber. She could sense the warmth of the wood from where she sat. She could feel it smiling, swelling with happiness at the memory of playfulness. Alex wriggled her toes in the deep pile of the rug and shut her eyes. She was swinging again, higher and higher. Holding on tight and leaning back as she rushed through the air. Through her closed eyelids her world was pink and safe and when she opened her eyes the sky seemed to catch her and cradle her in its arms. Sometimes she would let go and fly through the air, landing softly in the long grass, staining her knees green. Her mother would laugh when she came inside, and pull the loose blades of grass from her hair and give her a cuddle.
You think you can fly, don’t you Al?
Alex would nod and her mother would hold her hands tight.
You can fly Alex, you can do anything you want to do, remember that.
we crawled on our tummies through the dry, crackly grass, not bothered by the weeds that caught in our hair or the dirt that collected under our blunt nails. we had to know. not out of any need to belong, more out of our need to annoy. annoyance through knowledge. we could hear them at lunch time, rustling their chip packets, 'they know that we know they know', and we'd laugh. we'd laugh untill tears spilled down our faces and we fell to the ground clutching each other. happiness. pure happiness.
their latest secret weapon against us joining their 'elite' club was somewhat difficult for us. we found out vague details through a mutual friend. she was sympathetic to our plight, which she believed was us wanting to be one of 'them', but she enjoyed the attention too much to make it public knowledge that she was conversing with the enemy.
'look, all i can tell you guys is that it's a seven letter word starting with 'd'. she's made it so hard, it's almost impossible for you two to join....i'm sorry.' then she ran off, her little white blonde bob flicking this way and that while she scanned the quadrange for any sign she may have been seen.
we later found out that the seven letter word starting with d was develop, and she was right. our completely flat chests barred us from entry for quite a while
the girl was like something i've never seen before. seeing you for the first time is like trying out a new dancetrange till the rythym kicks in. awkward for the first part. difficult to manage it. and then he turned the page. start a new record and hold a new hand. ice in a tall glass clacking. fingers to a new beat snapping. hands to a mouth clapping short your answers. swallowing down your words.
why do i do this to myself
time after time
put myself through all your coldness
listen to those same old lines
i only wish i caould say the things that would stop you dead
make you realise what could be
chase reality out of your head
i hear your voice
you say my name
i've never heard it sound the same
touch my hand
dont walk away
i really wish that we could stay
i know the things that you say
arent really you
its just a front to stop the truth
from crashing through
we could just go
i never thought i'd feel this way
make a wish
leave it all and float away