Friday, November 18, 2011

Things I've written whilst drunk

[1] And when they tried to speak to each other it was always with the circling formalities of days long since past they would look back down their shoulders and not see  a single moment that anchored them together they had forgotten how to speak with the certainty of sweat and hands eager to the touch all humid reactions and instant groans. Their language was no longer that of sharp breathed intakes and lips bit to the quick and blood welling bright in the front of everything. They forgot how to laugh the cigarette taste clogging their mouths till all that was left was their needs. They knew there was more than this adjusting of bodily spaces and they lacked . . . oh how they lacked.

[2] Guys! WE'RE FUCKING ALIVE! And we can taste it all the blood and the sweat, the fear and the night air, the cum and the moment right before it all changes! GUYS! We are alive! And yeah there is some monumental shit to deal with...BUT WE GET TO DEAL WITH IT! We get to eat gas station hot dogs and work too much, play too little, miss the important moments and dwell on the worthless, but guys! We get to fuck and cry and know each others names! Our feet get to rest in lakes and our hands on bodies that seemed made for action! GUYS! We are that action.