whenever one's favorite style of dress or music is discovered, one develops a taste for what they think of as their norm...nay...their ideals. they make a scale for grading the things they find. 0-10.
gossip is a 0.
skinny jeans are a 10.
the music i listen to is about an 8 or 9.
boys are 2's. [almost all of them]
peach ice cream is an 11 on days when boys are less than a 2.
and gossip is slightly voided from it's unimportance if there's a rumor going around about you and the less than 2's and what happened when the 10's weren't included in the action and the 8's and 9's played loud in the car stereo speakers.
we read lips in the dark. and we read magazine's when the power is out. by candlelight we look into the depths of imagination and find a true fear of dark corners and shadows. shadows that show only in dim-lit situations and disappear when you close your eyes. we close our eyes to see. the light comes through your eyelids like sun through stained glass windows in a church. but your eyelids keep secrets. unholy grey glow of rainclouds taint the reflection in the fountain of youth. we never did what they said. we never said what we did. we kept our secrets in secret places in the backs of mystery novels. stealing candy bars from gas station counters. and living at front desks of hotels. going down the the names until you find your own, is like looking in a cemetary for your own headstone. which room was it again? you never made a reservation. nevermind that. we sleep on lobby couches. we'll always take the free coffee at the record store. red lipstick leaves traces on styrofoam cups in local cafe's. they never saw me leave. they never asked me to stay. we weren't wanted here. so we up and left. went to the old oak in the abandoned park where the swings rust and children are still at home with game controllers in hand. they're holding guns to heads in countries no one's heard of. we took forceful leave of all things natural. the converged graphic details. they hybridized "truth" with "fiction". we mixed up the colors of the rainbow and got a nasty shade of grey. we've got the whole story. nothings so bright when you look at it all together is it? nothings so bright as a single light in the dark. let one light in. we'll find our own way home.
