Oblivion
Oblivion
I stare into his entrancing blue eyes and ask him if he read Fight Club before deciding to act in the movie version of it.
"Of course I did. Have you read it?"
I have, three times actually.
"Read it, think it, but don't let it affect you too deeply."
I snorted and asked, why? I happen to enjoy thinking I am the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world, that I am not a fucking perfect, special, and unique snowflake. That on a long enough timeline, everyone's survival rate drops to zero.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about.." he says with a sigh. He steps closer, his face and body only inches from me, his black and red hair almost close enough to tickle my nose, his perfect azure eyes staring at me with such intensity, I have trouble believing my skull isn't a puddle on the floor right now.
Again, so?
And all of a sudden. I'm back to being split in half. I am across the room, smoking a long cigarette and rolling my eyes, my ripped fishnet stocking-ed legs crossed, my open-toed, stiletto-heeled right foot bumping against the wall as I fidget and watch what might as well be a movie on cable.
I take a pull off the cigarette in my hand and watch my other half get pushed against the slate-coloured wall, being kissed by Jared Leto.
A moment is the most you can ever expect from perfection.
Really, what the hell is perfection? Rushed oblivion.
The half of me in the corner flicks the hot ashes off the end of the burning stick of tobacco and watches the fall onto the industrial grey carpet, smoldering slightly. She watches the scene in front of her unfold. She watches the Jared Leto in front of her eventually pull away and stutter an apology. She drops her fag and smothers it into the carpet with the left toe of her $600 stolen shoes and stands up, deciding she's seen this sort of shitty TV movie too many times to count. She stalks out of the room, going outside to hail a cab.
The half of me still in the room looks directly into his burning blue eyes and says in a hoarse whisper,
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time,
before following the other half of her mind to the grotty cab waiting out front.
"Of course I did. Have you read it?"
I have, three times actually.
"Read it, think it, but don't let it affect you too deeply."
I snorted and asked, why? I happen to enjoy thinking I am the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world, that I am not a fucking perfect, special, and unique snowflake. That on a long enough timeline, everyone's survival rate drops to zero.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about.." he says with a sigh. He steps closer, his face and body only inches from me, his black and red hair almost close enough to tickle my nose, his perfect azure eyes staring at me with such intensity, I have trouble believing my skull isn't a puddle on the floor right now.
Again, so?
And all of a sudden. I'm back to being split in half. I am across the room, smoking a long cigarette and rolling my eyes, my ripped fishnet stocking-ed legs crossed, my open-toed, stiletto-heeled right foot bumping against the wall as I fidget and watch what might as well be a movie on cable.
I take a pull off the cigarette in my hand and watch my other half get pushed against the slate-coloured wall, being kissed by Jared Leto.
A moment is the most you can ever expect from perfection.
Really, what the hell is perfection? Rushed oblivion.
The half of me in the corner flicks the hot ashes off the end of the burning stick of tobacco and watches the fall onto the industrial grey carpet, smoldering slightly. She watches the scene in front of her unfold. She watches the Jared Leto in front of her eventually pull away and stutter an apology. She drops her fag and smothers it into the carpet with the left toe of her $600 stolen shoes and stands up, deciding she's seen this sort of shitty TV movie too many times to count. She stalks out of the room, going outside to hail a cab.
The half of me still in the room looks directly into his burning blue eyes and says in a hoarse whisper,
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time,
before following the other half of her mind to the grotty cab waiting out front.