|
2001-11-14 || 10:50 p.m. || 1998, again. || stereolab on late at night playing quiet enough to lose it when leaving my room. pink fuzzy slippers brown from all the dust collecting like snow in the hallway. boiling water for tea in the kitchen, the living room doors closed with illuminated windows flashing blue and white. peeking in to find the boys huddled on the couch like puppies, garbage bag of popcorn (collected after hours from the clay theater) at their feet, phone cradled under one of their chins, the 'history of rock and roll' on the telly again. or the movie 'naked'. or the token house copy of swedish animal porn. passing the bathroom on the way back to hear someone singing to the joy division tape in the shower. running downstairs to make sure the door is locked because it never is. turning the lock and sighing like my father and trudging back up to close the door and lie on the couch bed. thinking of laundry and homework and the way the wood doors have swollen in their frames with the months and months of rain. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |