Cosmic Audrey

Posts Tagged ‘fucked friendship’

And again

In deviatii de stereo on March 4, 2010 at 9:44 am

Thank you Internet, for awarding us the great privilege of online break-ups, misunderstandings, bitching and doubtful unfriendliness. Making life easier, teaching us how to cheat, lie, hate, dismantle life long relationships and mostly, refrain from thinking.

Choose real life, you scumbags, you think your laptop will hold hands with you in death?

You and me we’re cut from the same cloth

In deviatii de stereo on February 22, 2010 at 1:35 pm

It seems to some we famously get along
But you and me are strangers to each other
Cuz you and me: competitive to the bone
Such tragedy to trample on each other with how much we’ve endured
With the state this land is in
You and me feel joined only by gender
We are not all for one and one for all
Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
They’re happy we’re climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in
You and me estranged from the mother
You and me have felt impotent in our skin
You and me have taken it out on each other
You and me disloyal to the feminine
Such a pity to disavow each other with how far we’ve come
With how strong we’ve been
You and me are on this pendulum together
You and me with scarcity still fueling
Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
They’re happy we’re climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in
We may not have priorities same
We may not even like each other
We may not be hugely anti-men
But such a cost to dishonor a sister
You and me have made it harder for the other
We forget how hard separatism has been
You and me we can help change their minds together
You and me in alignment until the end

I have a memory of things that will not let me sleep

In deviatii de stereo on February 8, 2010 at 10:46 pm

Tu, cu ea, cu el, cu ei, vară, căldură mare, acoperişuri şi bere ieftină. Pofta mea funestă de a-mi subţia braţele şi figura până la dispariţie. Nu mâncai nici tu. Mai târziu mi-a spus el cât erai de geloasă pe mâinile mele, pe forma lor perfectată de vene groase şi de oasele răzbătând miraculos prin încheieturi. Nu aveai cum să fii niciodată la fel.  Rochia ta de in pe care ţi-o lăsase pe pat maică-ta, unghiile de culoarea vinului în pahar, râsul tău isteric şi felul în care îi purtai tricourile lui fără să ştii că gestul în sine îţi ştirbeşte şi ultima urmă de feminitate. Ai fi putut fi cel puţin interesantă, îi spuneam, dacă nu ai încerca cu tot dinadinsul să nu fii. Şi mă gândesc prin ce mecanism anevoios şi bizar ai ajuns tocmai în seara asta, în luna asta, în timpul ăsta, aici. Te priveam, două luni mai târziu, peste întinderea mesei, în întunericul din barul ăla infect în care ne-ai târât, în mijlocul atâtor oameni, păreai fericită şi străină de toate neajunsurile noastre . Mă priveai, fără să poţi spune un cuvânt. La sfârşit m-ai îmbrăţişat atât de tare încât credeam că îmi vei frânge toate oasele pe care le conservasem un an întreg cu aer şi nicotină. Erai senină, însă zeci de zile mai târziu te-ai revărsat. Îmi spuneam că a fost ultima oară. Îmi spuneam că ai fost ultima oară.

Perhaps, Virginia

In deviatii de stereo on January 31, 2010 at 11:30 am

I was fascinated with you when we met. I hated you silently before and then I thought you were the hottest gal. I sat there and looked at you, I was like WOW.

The next day I turned back to hating you. Perfect lips, skinny precious hips, invisible thighs and a mouth to adore oh-so-many. You were incredible and I was struck and paralyzed from overdosing you, your image, your picture of the ashtray girl, sexed up in movement, twirly in speech. Then I just settled for glancing at you once in a while. And it never again felt the same as we never were.

Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair

In deviatii de stereo on January 12, 2010 at 12:03 am

I really miss the good times. Twenty was so good, fuck damn it! Cigarettes where cheaper, the summer wasn’t over. The city, the clubs, the sand, the tables we sat at and those that we danced on. The dots I used to wear, my hair you used to love. I had two boyfriends, drank beer outside and met someone different almost every day. We didn’t call you Bird back then, but I loved you. We used to have more friends and we’d never get bored. My last year before coffee, love and mathematics. Before them, great heartsnatchers. It was clear, it was fun and we could breathe. And we had time.