I stare at them, bloody and wet, Darry holding Pony in his arms. They look tired, chilled, mortified. And then they see me. I doubt it made their night anymore gleeful than it already is.
Fuck it. I'm done being sarcastic. I don't wanna be here. No...
I'm standing in my bedroom cutting my hair. Haven't cut it in a while, well longer than a while. Actually, that depends on how you define "a while". I haven't cut it in over a year, if that's a while for you or not. I don't give a damn.
I'm planning on heading to the drive in tonight, who knows, maybe I can pick up a hunk or two. Either way I still wanna look decent minded.
I'm only cutting it to just past my shoulders, it was way to long to style before, I mean, that's why I'm cutting it in the first place, it's too long.
Starring at myself in the mirror is a past time of mine. It usually happens when in reading in bed at night. My dresser sits on the wall beside my bed with a large mirror seated in top. My room is incredibly small, and always messy because the mess doesn't bother me, so why should I clean It up.
Its 2:22, make a wish.
The movie doesn't start till eight, so I got a butt load of time. I decide to go for a walk, instead of fuckin the dog around here. Get some fresh crappy air from this old crappy neighborhood.
I moved here with my parents a month and a half ago from the amazing New York city. I already know my way around Tulsa pretty damn well if I do say so myself. I spend a lot of time outside because I got nothing better to do.
I also know the best stops to chill, orrrrrr, the best stores to steal cancer sticks from.
I grab a pack, walk past my parents and head out the door. I walk out to be met with the cold fall air. I'm blue pants and a black turtleneck but its still cold. I grab my light and light a cig.
By the time I get to the park and take a seat on the swings, my cigarette is down to a bud. I go to light a new one and I'm out. Fuck. I just got here man.
But I can wait because I'm addicted as fuck. I'm gonna die from lung cancer sooner or later, so I'm going to the store to get another pack.
So, I head out again.
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At the convenance store I grab a pack from the register, and I spot the most beautiful pocketknife. It is black with deep carvings of a dragon, colored purple.
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I grab it as well as a pack of gum and a lighter. I walk around the store with no intentions of getting anything else, but I can't make it look like I'm stealing.
There's no way I'm paying 50 cents for pack of cigarettes, there overpriced here. Definitely not coming back, especially if they prove hard to steal from.
