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 |   My first blog about my life, my favorite music, my opinions, my feelings. Whatever. |
This is the first blog I've ever had! You'll have to bear with me because I'm still learning how to do this whole thing. I'll admit that it's bit of a mess right now. I started blogging for "The Soundtrack of Your Life"  and I couldn't just let it end there! I don't think there's any point in keeping a separate blog for all of the blogging groups I want to join. I'm going to keep them all in this one so I can grow into an eclectic pot of confusion.What you'll find here:  My opinions on everything. Blog prompts for various groups. A different song everyday that means something to me. Experiences I've had in lifeWARNING This blog is rated GC and will contain offensive language, stories, and opinions. Please don't read if you're easily offended! My intentions aren't to offend anyone, so trust my warning and turn back now or forever hold your peace!  Things I'll be using this blog for:  "The Soundtrack of Your Life"  "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise"  "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" I want to hear from you! As I mentioned before, this is my first blog. I'd love to hear from anyone who reads this. Leave a comment, rating, or review. Let me know what you like to read about. Have a suggestion for me to write about? I'd love to hear it. The best thing about a blog is the exchanging of opinions between bloggers and readers. I want to keep us all interested. Plus, it's just nice to get a little love sometimes. Let's get to know each other.   Charlie ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **   ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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Artist: Bob Dylan Album: Blood on the Tracks Song: Shelter from the Storm https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZQR-o4nO1E Lyrics For weeks, you don’t think about your family or home. You miss their calls and let them wonder while you spend time with Emmy. The transition is slow, so incredibly slow. She has all these new fears of leaving rehab because she might relapse. She begs you to stay 100% sober, and that includes cigarettes. You sincerely try, or maybe you don’t. It’s hard to say at this point. There’s this awkward period of time when you’re staying in Emmy’s apartment but she still staying in the rehab center. Denise, her sponsor, demands that you pass a clean drug test before Emmy can come live there. It’s all backwards. But, God, the time is so precious. She has this vigor for life like you’ve never seen before in a person. Emmy was a passionate drug addict, now she is passionate about living her life with you. She’s so doting and happy all the time that you know you can’t do anything to disappoint her. You end up having to have Emmy piss for you to pass the drug test, not one of your proudest moments. She seems vaguely sad about it, but she doesn't like to talk about stuff like that anymore. It probably makes her think of old times. When you look back at something like that, you never think about the bad times. That's why so many people relapse. You say whatever she wants you to say at the time, probably that you're getting it under control or something. Just like that, she's on her way home with you like a puppy from the shelter. You can do with it what you want. Make it so happy or ruin it completely. You end up getting a job in the cafeteria of the hospital where Emmy works. You eat together on your lunch breaks and walk ride the bus together. Denise is still matching every dollar Emmy makes so it's like three incomes working together. Still, it isn't like how it was with Roger, when Emmy seemed to have an endless cash flow. But at least you're working for most of it this time. You don't really have anyone to answer to about where the money goes. Emmy has meetings three days a week and on those days, you ride the bus home alone. She keeps begging you to go to one of the meetings with her 'just to see what it's like'. You laugh it off and tell her that you'll definitely try it sometime. In the back of your mind, you're thinking that there's not a chance in Hell you would be caught dead at some self-help meeting. The thing is, you have to want to stop before you do. Another thing is, you just don't want to. It's pretty simple. You're laying in bed with Emmy one Saturday morning, awake early because your schedule throughout the week has worked its way into your brains. You often wake up thinking you've missed the bus, only to realize that it's the weekend. You have your arms around her, the sheets hanging low around your waist when she looks up at you and smiles. "The last month has been the best month of my life," she says softly. "Everything is so different now, but in a good way," you say, holding her closer. "I agree, and that's why I've decided, we should get married." You let go of her and nearly recoil at the word. "Huh?" She sits up. "I said, I think we should get married. I know you're not into that sort of thing. But I think the commitment is important." She chews nervously on the edge of her finger before quickly adding, "Denise agrees." "Well, okay, but Denise doesn't know us. She doesn't know our relationship." "Yes she does. She's my sponsor. We talk about pretty much everything." "Wow, okay. So she does know how rocky this 'relationship' has been and she still thinks we should jump into marriage?" You make air quotes with your fingers, because honestly, you weren't really in a committed relationship before now. She glares at you and something familiar starts creeping around in the back of your skull like a spider laying eggs. "I thought that you would be happy. I thought that you would be excited. Look, Charlie. If you don't want to be with me, just say so right now because I am not going to wast-" You hold your hand up, cutting her off. "I didn't say we couldn't discuss it. I just think it's a little soon. Don't you?" "No. No I do not think it's soon at all. How long have we known each other? How many memories have we shared together? Think of all the bad times we've been through, and look at us now, here together after everything." She motions to the bed that you both sit on like it's evidence of something. Your mind starts reeling at the thought of being back on your brother's couch with his bitchy girlfriend. You think of the horrific winter that's only a few months away. You think of all those grey days you'll spend alone and you know you have to think fast. You have to spin a web and get yourself off the spot. "I think I should get sober first." Emmy sits on the very edge of the bed, blinking before responding. "Oh, Charlie! I'm so happy you agree! I can recommend you to an amazing co-ed program. Ah, I'm so excited!" She lunges across the bed, squeezing you tightly and swaying back and forth like a little girl torturing her cat with love. "Oh my God! I have to call Denise." As she runs from the room, you flop back onto the pillows and wonder what misery you've bestowed on other people that would get you in a situation like this. Why can't anyone just be? They always have to want something. No one just hangs out and does their life without expecting so much in return. Why can't she just come back to bed? Stop going to these stupid meetings and stop talking to Denise like she's her best friend. The woman is Roger's age. She has basically just replaced that parent-like figure for Emmy. It isn't healthy. Know how wrong you are before the thoughts even form. |
Artist: Everclear Album: So Much for the Afterglow Song: Everything to Everyone https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1vQJFF2TKQ Lyrics You step off of the plane into the Florida heat, a humidity you've never felt before. The kid who was kicking your seat the whole flight runs past and you almost trip over him as his apologetic mom rushes to catch up with him. You've never been to Fort Lauderdale before, or anywhere in Florida. The treatment center Emmy has been staying at is fifteen thousand dollars a month, courtesy of Roger. Your suitcase is already off the conveyor belt when you get to the turnstile. Either it looked familiar to someone, or you've been robbed. Everything you own is in that suitcase. Funny thing about sober Emmy, she doesn't much like Roger anymore. Funny thing about Roger, he doesn't want to pay for the treatment of a girl he isn't going to be with. But, the gentleman he is, he finished paying off the third month and Emmy was able to get a job in the medical records department of a hospital in Fort Lauderdale. It isn't much, but it's a job. Her sponsor from rehab hooked her up with an apartment and paid first and last month's rent. She also offered to match every dollar Emmy made at work as long as she submitted to and passed drug tests every week. Some people just have all the luck. Your family was stunned when you told them you were moving down here to be with her. Reactions ranged from silence to shouting, but who could really say anything? It was obvious that everyone's lives were moving forward without you. It's better to sever the foot than drag it along hanging by the ligaments. There's a bit of fuss at first, but in the end, your family dropped you off at the airport and wished you well. Emmy isn't fully transitioned over into the new apartment yet. Her sponsor is still trying to get some furniture from donations. You end up spending a large portion of what little money you do have on a week at a motel. You go to see Emmy on a Saturday afternoon, and you're not sure what to expect. The last time you saw her was on the steps outside of Roger's house after you caught them doing the deed. You didn't hear from her for two months while you wallowed in self pity at Adam's house, then at your brother's house. When she did get into contact with you, it was just nice to hear a friendly voice. She sounded like she was doing really well. It was clear that she was thinking with a clearer head now. Everything she talked about was positive and happy, unlike the normal sarcasm she spewed. You ended up talking on the phone every day for the month. It was hard to hear her voice and realize how far away she was. The most surprising thing was when she said that the clarity of soberness had led her to the decision that she wanted to be with you. Be with you, be with you. She wanted you to move in with her at the end of the month. She apologized profusely for everything she had put both of you through in the past. She apologized every time you talked to her. There was apparently a list of people you had to apologize to and your name must have been on the list quite a few times. Your motel is close enough to walk to her rehab from, kind of, but not really in the stifling heat of summer. Emmy runs out to greet you and you don't even recognize her as she jumps into your arms. You hold her back at arms length and look her up and down. "My God, Emmy. You're... blonde!" "Do you like it? It's my natural hair color," she says, flipping it from side to side. It's a lot longer than it was the last time you saw her. You always took her to be a natural brunette. "I love it. You look really good," you tell her, honestly. She doesn't even look like the same girl. For one thing, she's gained at least ten or fifteen pounds. Her hair is blonde now and, the biggest change, all of her facial piercings have been removed. There are still slight remnants of them all over her face, little pinpricks here and there under her foundation. You might not even notice if you hadn't known how many she had before. You definitely wouldn't have noticed if you were a foot away from her face. She looked amazing with her weight closer to average, though she was still a little on the underweight side. "Come inside! Let me show you my room. I have a picture of you on my wall," she admits, giggling like a school girl. It's a completely different person. After she shows you her room, you meet her sponsor, Denise, woman with white veneers in a business suit top with long skirt. Her heels click as she walks along the tiled floor of the rehab center, talking a million miles a minute. You can't help but think that everyone here is so tan. It makes her fake teeth stand out even more. When you and Emmy head out to the backyard for some tea, you ask if Denise was ever an addict. You can't imagine she would be. "Oh, no." She leans forward dramatically, her voice barely above a whisper. She speaks with her hands as she continues, "Denise's daughter OD'd when she was nineteen. Heroin. Yep." She leans back proudly, for some reason. You furrow your eyebrows. "You just seem so different. I mean, it sounds like you're doing great." "Oh, totally. I'm better now than I've been in years. Did I tell you that I'm starting college in the fall? I'm so excited!" "College? Wow, that's amazing." "Oh, Charlie, I'm just so happy that you're here with me now. I've missed you so much," she gushes, squeezing your wrist. You see her tan hand on your pale wrist and think that something is definitely amiss here. She definitely sounded peppy on the phone, but you were pretty sure that her calls were being monitored and she probably just didn't want to share any of her negative thoughts over the phone. But this was something else entirely. You sip your sweet tea with a smile and wonder if you can get used to her this way. She smiles at you and it's so genuine, so happy. You decide then and there that you will make it work. You'll get used to it. It's like meeting a person all over again once they're sober. This is the start of a happier time, you can just feel it. You put yourself in stupid places Yes I think you know it's true Situations where it's easy to look down on you |
Artist: The Velvet Underground Album: The Velvet Underground Song: Pale Blue Eyes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcDuR9BF0Oc Lyrics You're sitting on the white leather couch eating some cornflakes one afternoon when Adam comes stumbling out of the bedroom without a shirt on. "Where is everyone?" he grumbles, drinking orange juice straight from the carton. "Uh, I think it's just us here," you tell him, knowing how much he hates when the house is empty. There's this weird thing about taking people for granted. When you first started coming around, it was like you could barely get Adam to let you go back home. He didn't want to be alone that bad. Now that you're a semi-permanent fixture in the house, he feels alone when it's just the two of you home. "Where's that girl? Tiffany?" "Ashley?" "Yeah, I think. The one with the blonde hair." You've been hanging out with her for a while. It's not a serious thing, but she spends the night fairly frequently anyway. "I couldn't tell you," you respond, going back to watching TV. "What, you guys aren't getting along now? I've never seen someone have so much trouble getting along with people." "We are getting along. What are you talking about? Just because you don't spend every second with someone doesn't mean you aren't getting along." How annoying is it when someone decides to be in a bad mood and they take it out on you? People do that so often. "I think you should start pitching out around here," Adam says, looking at the granite countertop. You're turned halfway to look at him, but he won't meet your eyes. "Wow, really?" "Yeah, I mean, you're here all the time, right? So why shouldn't you contribute something to the bills?" You turn back around to the TV and laugh for a second, thinking about how funny people are. You stand up and set your bowl in the sink, heading for the spare bedroom without saying a word. You've been going back to your brothers' house every few days, so you don't have much to pack. You get your duffel bag full and look around the stale room. "Wait, what are you doing?" Adam steps in front of you in the hallway. "I'm going home." "What do you mean? Because I asked for you to pay a little for staying here? Look, I just meant a little bit for utilities. I've got the rent under control!" "Get out of my way," you say, trying to walk around him, but he sidesteps in front of you again. "Just forget it, okay? Let's just forget. I think I've just been working too much, ya know?" You scoff and push past him, bumping shoulders as you head for the front door with him following closely behind telling you about how tired and stressed out he is. You tell him that you'll definitely see him around and head for the elevators as he slams the door and locks it behind you. Sure, you should maybe be paying a little for electricity. But what about all the other people who crash at his house every night? He's the one who begged you to stay and all of a sudden you need to give him money? Especially with all the money he makes; it's just offensive. When the bus drops you off outside of the apartment complex, you almost don't get off. Madison is sitting on her steps, looking longingly at your house. Or maybe she's just bored and zoning out. People believe what they want. You make eye contact right away and know that it's time to talk to her. It's so easy to just pretend like you don't see each other, to just keep walking and ignore each other's existence. It's much more difficult to work things out. It's especially awkward because she still talks to your brothers when she sees them at the on-site laundromat or waves at them as they head off to work. She acts like she doesn't see you as you walk up, sitting like a sculpture with a melancholy expression. "Hey, Madison." "Sup?" "Mind if I sit?" "As long as you don't smoke," she says, still not looking at you but scoots over just enough for you to take a seat. You sigh, wishing you had thought of what you would say before right now. "I just wanted to say, you know, I'm really sorry about how everything went down. That wasn't my intention." She still doesn't look at you, so you know you'll have to try harder. "It was so wrong of me to just ditch you like that. It wasn't supposed to work out that way. I think I wasn't as over Emmy as I thought I was. I mean, I was over her, but sometimes you just do the comfortable thing." "My lease is up soon. I'm moving to Arizona to finish school." She looks at you finally with those bright eyes and your heart melts away. "Arizona? Wow, I didn't know that was part of the plan." "Yeah, well, it wasn't. Sometimes you don't do the comfortable thing." You smile at your own words thrown back in your face and kick at a pebble on the sidewalk. "Good luck. I mean, really. That's a big move." "Yeah, it is. I just want to get as far away from here as I can." She gives you a cold glare. "Understood," you say, and it's your turn to look away. "My dad's side of the family lives in Tucson. So, yeah." "That's great. That's really great," you say, rolling your head around in your hands. "What are you doing?" she asks, sounding annoyed. For some reason, you just get the urge to lie down right there and the warm sidewalk, so you do. Just kind of lay there and roll back and forth like you're coming down from something hard. "Oh my God. Get up before someone sees you," Madison scream whispers, sounding mortified. "Why?" "What do you mean? Get up right now. You look like a crazy person." You lean your head back and see your house upside down across the street. Even from here you can see the raised paint where the heart used to be, or maybe you can't, who knows. "Why does it matter?" "Okay, I'm going inside. You should just go home and get some rest. I have no idea what has gotten into you," she talks quickly, towering over you now. You get the urge to crawl across the street on your stomach, just to drag yourself across the pavements with your fingertips, but you can't move. You just lay there as you hear Madison's door open and slam shut. Hear the familiar sound of the deadbolt locking behind you. Wonder what the fuck you're doing and stumble across the street to your couch. |
Artist: Placebo Album: Without You I'm Nothing Song: Every You Every Me https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSvkfy3ddrk Lyrics Once the cycle starts, it's nearly impossible to break. It's the same thing every day. Faces blur together and time is irrelevant. You're back at your brothers' apartment, but you're rarely actually there. Is there anything more obvious than when someone sees you as a burden? It's a pretty awful feeling, so you spend as much time as possible away from home. But you can't just 'be away from home', can you? No, you've got to find someone else to be with during that time. So you do. Where you grew up, there weren't many people. I mean, statistically speaking, by the time you were in school, you'd know most of the people in town by first name already. After a certain point, you don't 'meet new people'. The city isn't like that though. You can go to the same place every night and pick up a different person every time. It reminds you of a song from your life just a few years before, It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live. Your family seems to be happier the less you're around. People stop asking you where you go to for days at a time. You meet a guy named Adam who seems to know everyone in the city. He's a little too old to be part of the scene, but he owns an eighteen and over club downtown. You're of age now so you don't even have to use a fake ID. It's hard to remember where the last couple of years have gone. Adam lives in a high rise apartment downtown that costs over two thousand a month for a one bedroom, one bathroom. His is a two bedroom, two bathroom. You looked it up one time online and saw that his apartment was, like, thirty-seven hundred a month. Adam has great financial advice like, never ever get married and don't donate to big business charities. His hours are pretty crazy, so he sleeps until two or three in the afternoon and goes to bed at around four or five in the morning. He says he doesn't mind if you crash in the spare bedroom, and you're not that only one who does. People come back from the club all the time and spend the night. You've never seen such a sterile place before. All of the appliances are chrome and the ceilings are high. There are huge windows that look out over the city, but it isn't beautiful, like you see in movies. You chalk this up to not living in a beautiful city. The drapes match the comforters and there are paintings of flowers and fruit on every wall. Adam said he had hired an interior designer to decorate when he moved in. The lights were all dim and recessed. It was just super depressing looking, but impeccably clean. Usually when someone spent the night at the high rise, it was only because they were too drunk to drive and Adam was trying to be a good person by giving them a place to sober up for the night. You were like a parasite that just never seemed to go away, even though he promised he didn't see you that way. He said, in fact, that it was nice to have someone else there all the time. He went a little crazy if he spent too much time alone, which made sense given his social butterfly lifestyle. For a while, you were kind of just a quiet shadow in the background. You guys didn't even really talk that often. You'd grab a yogurt from the fridge in the morning and take a walk around downtown, maybe go to the library and read a little or write. When you got home, he would still be asleep and you'd take a shower or watch a movie. At around five or six, he'd ask if you wanted to order something out for dinner and you'd always agree, sometimes it was Chinese food or pizza, nothing too expensive. Once it was time to go to work, you'd ride with him usually in a taxi. It's that thing with cycles, unless something goes awry, why break them? All the girls at the club are in love with Adam. It was his money or whatever, it had to be, because he wasn't a good-looking dude. He just wasn't, skinny and hairy. A super nerd who had somehow acquired this business that led him to all these attractive, easy women. His personality was terrible, like he had never tried to build it up. He couldn't hold a conversation if his life depended on it, and he was so arrogant from being with the girls. He would constantly brag to you, and it, God, it was annoying. He had this rating system for everything and everyone. "Yeah, her body was like 8.5, but her face was about a four, and her personality was maybe a two. But I tell you, she was nine in bed, easily." Why does everything have to have numbers? That doesn't work in other aspects of life, does it? Like, if you were talking about a restaurant, you wouldn't say, "Yeah, the service is a six, the cleanliness is a one, but the linguini is a nine." It's just weird. The girls themselves were the most irritating thing about the whole scene. For one thing, they weren't that attractive, but just wore tons of makeup and less clothing than the weather called for. They were totally different from the girls who were in the punk scene. Those girls were annoying too, but it was almost in the exact opposite way. The girls in the old scene had an opinion on every single thing. You could make something up, and they'd already have an opposing opinion on it. The girls in the new scene just had no opinions established on anything in life. They were like shoes. But did you turn them away? Well, hey, you never claimed to be a saint. |
Artist: The Smashing Pumpkins Album: Adore Song: Perfect https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKYY8DxVZHE Lyrics Your brother finds out you've quit your job and moved in with Emmy and immediately tries to get you to move back in. It doesn't take much to be too far gone, and you're past that point, thinking you're happier in your messed up situation with her. He tries to convince you by telling you he talked to Madison and she's worried about you. This isn't news to you, she called you every day for a week straight. Eventually, Emmy got sick of it and greeted her with a nice, "Fuck off" before hanging up. Madison didn't call anymore. It's nice sometimes to just wallow in self pity, to not work or go to school, to have no ambitions and give up completely. It's simply fun to lay in bed all day and get high or take some downers and sleep for hours. The self-indulgent nature of it has always placated you. So many people will try to suck out all of your energy and waste your time. You know that. They'll take way more than they'll ever give and they'll feel entitled to do so; it's sickening. But in your warm little haven of filth, you can be a person that simply gives nothing and takes nothing. You can just be neutral. After a while, who knows how long, your parents decide to come up for a visit and plan an entire 'fun-filled' weekend. This includes, eating at restaurants at least twice a day, going to war and science museums, and seeing a play. You go, of course you do, but why? Are you a soul sucker? Do you want to show them just how far you've fallen? Probably. It's miserable, you knew it would be. But when they leave, you and your brothers have something to bond over while you sit on the couch in their living room that you used to live on. Your oldest brother talks about how they have no respect for his relationships and Amanda nods her bitchy head in agreement and says that they don't understand how serious the relationship is. You roll your eyes in response and silently hope she notices. But she doesn't. Do time wasters ever notice? You end up crashing on the couch that night and your oldest brother drives you up to Emmy's the next morning. It's a Monday, the start of a new week. On the way over, he says something about how it was nice to spend time with you and that you're welcome back at the house whenever you're ready, even Amanda agrees. You tell him that you'll definitely think about it, but it's only eight in the morning, so who knows if you'll think about it or if you'll just crash out for a few days and forget about it completely. Emmy gave you a spare key to the house so you can come and go freely now. It's especially useful on days like this, when it's early and she'll probably be asleep for five more hours. You wave at your brother as he drives away and go inside. Things are off right away. For one thing, the coffee machine is on. The television in the living room has the news playing, but it's muted. I mean, really, you know right away what's happening. Morbid curiosity is a powerful thing, especially when it's mixed with denial. You walk slowly through the hallway to the master bedroom where the door is just slightly ajar. You push it open lightly with the toe of your boot and are greeted with the such an unsightly view that you nearly gag. This fifty-year-old, pasty, dimply, impossibly lumpy body on top of such a skinny, small one. "Oh God!" Your voice breaks through the air like a bullet and there are a lot of sudden movements as you grip your head in your hands and back out into the hallway. Roger grabs the covers and pulls it over him, leaving Emmy all exposed on the bed. Such a gentleman. "What the fuck, Emmy?" he demands in a gruff, angry tone. "Dammit, Charlie!" she exclaims, jumping up and slamming the bedroom door in your face. You're still in the hallway, trying to process what you've just scene. Your mind goes into a defense-like state, just spinning and blurry as you stumble through the house and out the front door. You sit down on the steps and light up. About halfway through the cigarette, you just burst out laughing. You throw your head back and just laugh and laugh until the ashes fall at your feet. What a strange situation. I mean, who is allowed to be angry here? Surely it isn't you. Surely you aren't allowed to be angry about a guy having sex with his girlfriend. That's all this really is, isn't it? You hear the front door open behind you and half expect to be punched in the back of the head or something. Instead, Emmy sits down calmly next to you and takes one of your cigarettes. "I'm sorry that you saw that," she says, after a considerable moment of silence. "I, like, did not know at all that this was still going on." "It's not!" Emmy says quickly, then corrects when you laugh, "I mean, it wasn't." "I still have some stuff in there I need to get. Do you want to get it for me or will the old man be okay if I get it myself?" "I'm going to rehab, Charlie." You stop and look at her with your eyebrows raised. "Wow, rehab. That's, uh, that's really great." "Roger arranged everything for me, I'm leaving for Florida tonight." "Florida, like across the country Florida?" Emmy has always made fun of what a joke rehab is. She said she'd never be caught dead in a place like that. "Well, I wish you luck. I really do." "You should get into rehab, too." You scoff, "Right, well, I don't have a middle-age man to send me off to rehab every time I-" "Roger will pay for it," she interrupts, staring at you with pleading eyes. "Wow," you say, with a big smile. "He really loves you." You go inside and gather your things while Roger sits in his recliner doing old man things like drinking coffee while watching the news and wiping his nose with a handkerchief. Outside, Emmy hugs you and cries, telling you that she's sorry and things will be better once she's sober. She says that if you change your mind about treatment, to tell Roger, as though that would ever be an option. Then you say your goodbyes as you silently curse the day you met her. You walk to the bus station, refusing a ride, and hope that you never see her again. |
Artist: Radiohead Album: The Bends Song: High and Dry https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKkr29EGc-Y Lyrics Madison is so understanding; of course she is, sympathetic and sweet. She says that it doesn't bother her that you have a 'crazy' ex, but she is surprised that you actually dated a girl like Emmy. Madison doesn't know enough about you or your past to understand that it isn't so strange. She tries to empathize by saying that we've all ended up with the wrong one before, even after you try to tell her that you were never really together. You don't talk to Noah or Emmy after that night, and it doesn't bother you in the least. You just don't want them in cahoots behind your back. They both know a lot about you, but each one knows things about you that the other doesn't. You start getting a lot closer to Madison, and it really seems to help close the gap. You spend all of her free time with her in the evening and work during the day. She says that working along with school is stressing her out too much, so she goes down to two days a week at work. You're pretty sure she just wants to have more time to spend with you. Things get more serious and she starts that whole 'what are we' conversation that people tend to have at the beginning of their relationship. You don't particularly like to label stuff like that, but Madison's worried eyes win you over. "Yes, you're my girlfriend," you tell her, as the two of you lay in bed one night. She has maroon-colored satin sheets. Her apartment looks like it belongs to a thirty-year-old business woman, all minimalistic and tidy. She smiles the sweetest smile and says, "That's all I want to hear." She still isn't comfortable with having you spend the night at her house. She decides that she wants to take things slow, and you respect that choice, thinking it's probably better for you anyway. It gives you time to distance yourself from your old friends before things get too serious between you and Madison. She's on your mind all the time though, her dark, curly hair twisting around her finger. Her lip-glossed lips smiling in that way that drives you crazy as she spews off something she learned in her psych class. You've never felt that hung up on a girl before. It's two weeks after the Emmy fight and you're asleep on the couch in the living room. It's probably six or seven in the morning, a time that you've pretty much forgotten exists. You're roused awake by your oldest brother who says, "Get out." "Huh?" "Pack your shit and get out." "What are you talking about?" You demand, suddenly alert. "Look, I can't deal with this anymore. You've gotten yourself caught up with the wrong crowd. I get that. But I can't deal with this in my house." You jump up. "What is going on? What happened?" "Why don't you go look for yourself?" He points toward the front door. You hurry over, nearly tripping over the covers. Opening the door, you gasp at what you see. A giant pink heart has been spray painted on the outside of the door with, C.A. and E.J. 4-EVR painted in the middle. You reach out and touch the paint. Dry. Turning back to your brother, you go into complete panic mode. "You have to help me. We have to get this off before Madison goes to school. Shit, what time is it?" Your brother grabs your shoulders and says, "I'm really sorry that this is happening. But I think it's best if you pack some stuff and leave for a while." "What the hell are you talking about? Where am I supposed to go?" "Look, Amanda is moving in, okay? She can't deal with stuff like this. She just can't. If she comes over and sees this, she'll be out the door. You can't mess this up for me." He and Amanda had been dating since shortly after the move. She never quite seemed to like you, giving you irritating looks when she slept over. "So what? You're like, kicking me out now?" He steps back, "Whoa. No, not at all. I was thinking that you could just pack a bag, maybe stay with Madison for a couple weeks while Amanda transitions. I know that she won't have a problem with you staying here, but if we have stuff like this happening," he motions at the door. "She's going to get scared off. I just want to take a little break from this so you can get your stuff figured out with Emmy. I don't want to get kicked out of our house. I don't know if we can get evicted for this, but I'm thinking we can. I don't know whether I should be calling the cops or..." He looks down, uncomfortably. "Sure, man, no problem. I'll get out of the way while she's gets, ya know, adjusted." "Thank you. I know she's a little overbearing sometimes. But I really care about her." You nod. "I know. I'll just stay with Madison for a little bit. It'll be good for us anyway. Yeah, I'm excited. What are we going to do about the door?" He walks over and feels the paint. "I'm thinking I can get it off with some acetone, then I'll probably have to paint over it." The conversation ends well enough. You're pretty sure he's just head over heels for this girl that is trying to be way too controlling of the situation. He tends to go for girls like that. He seems to calm down after you agree without much of a fuss. Of course, your head is still spinning from the whole thing as you pack a small bag and head across the street, hoping that Madison will continue being sympathetic of the situation. She looks out the window when you tell her and gasps, turning around, her hooped earrings clanging. "You have got to be kidding me!" "I wish I was." "Did you call the police?" "No. No, I don't want to do that." "Are you serious? You have to call the police, Charlie. That's vandalism!" You try to change the subject. "So, anyway, my brother's girlfriend is moving in and he wants me to kind of stay out of her way for a bit. He's afraid that my baggage will scare her off." "Well, God, he should be afraid. This is about too much for me." She backs away from the window, looking scared. You reach out for her, but she jerks away. "So what? Now you want to stay at my house or something? I thought you understood that I wanted to take my time with this." "I do, I do. But that was before all of this happened. I had no idea, I didn't want to get you invol-" She interrupts you with a sudden outburst of emotion. She starts crying and sits down on the plush living room couch. "I can't take this. I don't understand what is going on with her, but I shouldn't have to be woken up early on exam day to deal with your bullshit. It isn't fair to me." She looks at you, tears clouding her pretty eyes. You just want to hold her and tell her to forget about it. You want to go rip your front door down so she doesn't have to see it. But seeing her there, so upset like that, something dawns on you. You don't deserve any of this. You don't deserve her innocence, her good nature. She doesn't deserve to be broken up over someone like you. So you do what you're best at, apologize and leave. That afternoon, you take the bus to Roger and Emmy's house. You've been thinking about it all morning and you have to confront her. You're feeling confident, especially when you see that Roger's car isn't in the garage. You pound on the door and Emmy answers, all groggy like she has just woken up. You don't say anything, just stare at her and she acts surprised to see you there. "Oh, Charlie. Come in," she offers. "I don't want to come in." You spit the words at her, angrily. She sighs and says, "Fine, I'll come out there." She grabs her fur coat and bounces down the front steps, sitting on the bottom one and pulling out a cigarette. She offers you one and you take it. You can't even look at her. Her dark, raccoon eyes and busted lip. Who knows what she even has a busted lip from. "Is that from me?" she asks, running her finger along the edge of your eyelid where the scratch she made has scabbed over. You lean away from her, annoyed. "I can't believe you did that. You know you got me kicked out of my house." "Which house?" she asks, surprised. "My brother's, dumbass. He's making me leave for 'a while' until I can get things sorted out." She snorts and exhales a long line of smoke. "Look, I really lost it. I did. I lost my temper and I fucked up. I don't know what I was thinking." "I know exactly what you were thinking," you snap. "You were thinking that Madison would see what you did and she would break up with me. Well, congratulations, Em. You've scared her off. You win." She shakes her head and grabs your hand with a sudden urgency. "No, please listen. This isn't what I want. Roger and I have been having problems. He got an apartment downtown. He's been staying there. It got so bad, being alone like this. Noah won't even answer my calls." You sigh, and look at her for the first time, your hand still wrapped in hers. "I'm so sorry," she looks into your eyes and you see sincerity. You see truth. "I'm going to go talk to her. I'm going to go talk to Alison and tell her that I'm in the wrong here." "Madison," you correct her. "Right, Madison. I'm going to go talk to her this afternoon. I'm going to paint over the door. I'm going to make everything okay again, then I'm going to leave. I'm going to get out of your life forever, because you don't deserve any of this." You run your hand through your hair and shake your head. "It won't work. I mean, I care about Madison. But she's a good girl. She isn't like us." Emmy smiles at the thought of the two of you being alike. "It never would have worked, would it?" You ask to no one in particular, but of course, she answers anyway. "It couldn't have. I'm sorry." The next time you go home to get more stuff, the door is back to looking normal, that is until you got up close. You can see the paint is kind of raised where the heart used to be. The blinds are drawn in Madison's apartment. She hasn't tried to get into contact with you since that morning. You think that it really is better this way. Her focusing on school while you and Emmy stay in bed all day, strung out and sad. But in the moments of clarity, you still see her strawberry-scented curls, twisting around her finger. You see her biting her lip as she smiles, so happy to see you. She came and went so quickly, it's like she never even existed. Drying up in conversation, You will be the one who cannot talk All your insides fall to pieces, You just sit there wishing you could still make love |
Artist: Modest Mouse Album: The Lonesome Crowded West Song: Teeth Like God's Shoeshine https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0qBdHLspQ Lyrics Emmy drops you off at your apartment and you slam the car door as she tries to say something. She speeds off, her tires squealing, headed home to her fifty-year-old boyfriend. The whole situation is embarrassing, to think you could have been the one to develop those kind of feelings, to need more. Normally when you had girl problems, you would call Noah, but you aren't speaking to him. He tries to call at least a few times every day, but you decline time after time. You don't have anyone and everything appears to be bleak and desolate. You're sitting outside, smoking when you see a girl moving in across the street. She's struggling with a big box and drops it in the middle of the street, causing books and papers to go everywhere. A guy pulls up in his truck and honks the horn at her while she's trying to clean it up. Thinking about what a jerk he is, you jump up to help her. That's when you meet Madison. She's a pretty girl in that preppy girl-next-door kind of way. She's clean, brunette and skinny. No piercings, no tattoos, wearing normal denim and a college hoodie. She's exactly what you need right now. Madison is in her first year of college, going for a marketing degree. She's pretty and down-to-earth, nervous about living on her own for the first time. Her parents are paying for her apartment there because it's near campus. Apparently she hadn't gotten along well with her roommate first semester and kind of gave up on the whole dorm thing. You can't imagine how anyone could ever fight with her. She doesn't have a lot of strong opinions about political things. She doesn't force anything down your throat. You have to actually work to get to know her. She doesn't just tell everyone she meets every aspect of her life, and you really respect that about her. Things are slow though. She spends a lot of time at school and waitresses in the evening and on weekends. She waves when she sees you heading into or out of your house, but there's an element of work that you have to put in to get close to her. You start hanging out though, when she has time, and you make time for it even when you don't. It's so nice to hear someone talk about normal things, like how their professor is way too harsh and there isn't enough hot water in the apartments. Maybe it was these mundane conversations that you needed all along, conversations about sports teams that you know nothing about or the girl in speech class who is trying way too hard to impress everyone. Emmy starts calling you too, about a week and a half or so after the Noah trip. She's really aggressive about it and leaves voicemails cursing you out and threatening you. Noah starts leaving voicemails too, saying that he's 'disappointed' to hear that you've cut Emmy out of your life over something so menial. You want so badly to call him back and tell him that words like 'menial' are subjective, but that would require contact that you're not ready to have. Things go from bad to weird when Emmy shows up one night several weeks later while you're standing outside with Madison. She's telling you about the dangers of smoking and how she wishes you would give it up. "If anything, just because it stinks and it's expensive." You promise her that you'll consider it. Once you confirm that it is Emmy in the car across the street (by way of her bright pink hair), you tell Madison she should go inside. She sort of laughs and asks why, but complies when she sees that you're serious. You tell her you'll call her later to explain and to make sure she locks her door. As you head across the street to your apartment, Emmy hops out of her car and stomps up to you, yelling and waving her arms. She looks like a cartoon character, all animated. "Who is that? Is that why you won't talk to your friends? For some stupid skank?" "Keep your voice down," you say softly, sternly. You walk past her and head up the steps to your apartment. She follows behind screaming about how she will not be silenced. You're happy that your brothers are out for the night. They probably would have called the cops with the way Emmy was acting. You stand against the stairwell in the living room, right in the doorway and tell her to shut the door behind her. "Okay, what do you want?" Emmy shakes her head in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me? What do I want?! I gave so much to you. You really are just like every other asshole guy I meet. I mean, wow. You had no problem with our arrangement for months. One little thing happens and you're going to cut your two best friends out of your life? What kind of person are you?" You close your eyes, knowing that your sweet neighbor with the newborn is going to hear all of this. "Can we please keep our voices down?" That just makes everything worse because now Emmy starts screaming louder. "You know what? Thank you, Charlie, really. I've been so much happier the last month without you in my life." She eyes you, and a smirk curls her upper lip like she's just had a clever idea. "I can see why you and Noah were such good friends though. He really is a sweet guy. He's been so supportive, when he came up here-" "Wait, Noah came up here?" You steady yourself on the stairway railing. "When did Noah come up here?" Noah had come up here to see her? "Oh, he tried to call you. But, yeah, he ended up crashing at my place because Roger was out of town for the week." She says it so casually, nonchalant, like it's no big deal. You grip your the sides of your head with your hands. "Okay, just get out." "What, why?" Emmy asks with feigned innocence. "Get the fuck out of my house," you say slowly, enunciating each word. "Oh, so now you're kicking me out? I can't even stop by and see one of my best friends? You know, the problem with people like you is-" You're too angry to control your thoughts and the words just tumble out of your mouth as you interrupt. "Okay, get out of my house. I never want to see you again. Do you get that? Go back to your fat, old boyfriend. Go spread your legs for him so he'll let you keep your shitty car." She stands defiant, her arms crossed, back to the front door with her mouth gaping open. "You're twenty-six years old and this is still how you're living your life? You better get used to being on your back, because that's all you'll ever be good for." It takes a minute for your words to register, but when they do, Emmy goes into a complete rage. She comes at you, punching you in the face, chest, and arms. You try to duck out of her way, but she continues screaming at you while she attacks. You know you can't hit her back, so you try to cover your face with your arms as you nearly fall while backing away. She growls, "You've really fucked up now. You just wait." and literally spits on the floor, that's what kind of girl she is, and runs out the front door. The second you hear her car squeal off, you steady yourself and grab your phone, knowing that it's finally time. He answers on the first ring. "Finally you call me back. Do you have any idea how many times I've called you?" "I'll tell them all that you kissed me." There's a long pause on the other line as Noah collects his thoughts. "What did you just say?" "If you see her again, if you speak to her again and I find out, I will tell every person we know that you kissed me." "You kissed me too!" You nod, resting your head against the cool wall next to you and smile. "The difference is, I don't care what people think about it. You do though. It would ruin your life if they all knew." "You're playing with fire here, Charlie." His tone is one you've never heard from him before, menacing and low. "I think you should just cool out and think about what you're saying." "Oh, I have thought about it. I've decided that I will tell every single person that you know if you ever speak to her again." Another tense pause fills the line and when he speaks again, his tone has totally changed. "You know, I'm done with her anyway. You were right, she's got a screw loose or something. Nah, I'm not into her like that. I just want things to be okay between us again. Friends are more important than girls." "Well, I knew that clearer heads would prevail in the end. I guess I'll see you soon." You hang up the phone, your hands shaking with adrenaline. Standing up, you turn the music on and go to the bathroom to nurse your wounds, feeling naively confident that your problems are finally solved. |
Artist: The Replacements Album: Let It Be Song: Unsatisfied https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DU6IndADEWI Lyrics Within a couple weeks of the move, you're all drinking yourselves into a stupor every night. You start around two or three in the afternoon and it goes on as long as you're all able. They're old enough to buy alcohol, so it's like an endless supply. The sudden rush of freedom takes hold and what better way to express that freedom? None of you know anyone in the city, none of you have jobs. There's literally just nothing better to do, which is what you tell your mom when she drives up that first weekend and sees all the empty bottles in your trash. She shakes her head, but seems to laugh it off as much as possible. That initial phase wears thin on your brothers within a month or so. They go out and get legit jobs while you get paid under the table at a coffee bar that sells flavored tobacco. You aren't of age to that yet. The owner says that if anyone asks, to just say you're eighteen and you agree with no hesitation. Later, you'll find out that this is the strangest job ever. You sit on the counter smoking and drinking espressos. You're encouraged to treat customers like they're an annoyance. It's your first job and it isn't a very good prep for real jobs that you'll have later on. Your brothers meet people at work and start spending more time with their new friends when they aren't at work. Your oldest brother gets a girlfriend who stares at you when you walk into the kitchen like you don't belong there. They start getting annoyed that you don't make much money at your job and they threaten to stop supplying alcohol when you wake the whole house up with your music in the middle of the night. You shrug and say that you'll just get it from your co-worker. There's only two girls working at the cafe and you end up dating one of them. She lives in a nice house in the suburbs with her mom and military father. He's hardly ever home though, so you spend a lot of time at her house. Neither of your houses are that good for getting cozy, though yours is infinitely better. Her mom allows you to spend the night, but makes you sleep on a pair of bunk beds with the door open and you can't help but think, Why are there so many bunk beds in my life? If she stays the night at your house, you have to sleep in the living room which isn't that comfortable. Who knows what happens, but things just start to fall apart really quickly. You start getting into it with your boss because he doesn't want his employees dating and you think he's probably just a pervert and likes your girlfriend. Your brothers start going to bed early and waking up early while you keep completely different hours. Then there are bills that you can't ever quite keep up on. You start feeling that creeping melancholy and stave it off as long as possible. You start spending a lot of time alone, drinking and painting when you aren't at work. It's the middle of winter when you decide that you've had enough. You had quit the cafe the month before and now you were working at a restaurant that didn't even offer a discount on their overpriced food. You didn't even have enough money to buy yourself a winter coat. You were sitting on the couch, admiring your latest painting when it happened, a strange moment of clarity amidst the big blur. You had to get out of here. You had to leave the state completely. It was too cold, you decided that you had to go south. So you did. |
Artist: Led Zeppelin Album: Led Zeppelin IV Song: Black Dog https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tlSx0jkuLM Lyrics It's moving day and you make the three hour trip with the windows rolled down. Your oldest brother is driving the moving truck with the furniture while you and your other brother drive together with your clothes. Since his discovery of Bob Dylan, he's gotten on a kick of Led Zeppelin and listens to them for at least an hour or two every day, much to your delight. The sun bakes the passenger seat where you sit with your hand hanging out the window, feeling the wind blow through your fingers. The breeze is hot and thick against your face as the music blares. Aren't times like that just great? When you're so comfortable with someone else that you don't need to talk? You can just blare music and bob your head to the music for hours. He taps his hands on the steering wheel and you both sing along with Robert Plant. You take your time getting to the new house, stopping frequently for drinks or bathroom breaks. You're not surprised to find that there isn't an emotional goodbye when you leave in the morning. Your mom makes it seem like it's because they'll be visiting you a lot anyway, but you both know that isn't the case. It was much harder to say bye to Noah and your other friends. You're okay with it though, just enjoying the music and the warm day. It's like a weight has been lifted. You feel a certain freedom that you've never felt before. It's like you can breathe easier, without holding tension in your shoulder like you normally do. When you arrive at the townhouse, it's looks like the best place you've ever seen. It's empty and clean. There are only two bedrooms, so you'll have to sleep downstairs on the couch. It's not a big deal, you should be in high school right now anyway. Moving stuff in is never fun, but when all is finished, you guys order pizza and put a movie on. You drink and just relish the fact that the three of you are simply free. |
It starts as a low murmuring and grows into a thundering sound like the inside of a cyclone. You turn the music up to try to drown them out. Hear a door slam and more screaming. Turn the stereo up even more, sitting in your blacked out room. Hopefully they'll just go to bed soon. What could they possibly be arguing about now? Things seem to settle down a little bit and you're sure they're done for the night. They've probably fallen asleep. People always say you should never go to bed angry, I don't have to be married to know that's not true. Sometimes you're just tired and stressed out from the fight and you really should go to sleep and rethink the situation in the morning. Your parents have always done that, gone several days or even weeks without speaking. You've never had an awkward meal until you've tried to chew a piece of steak between a married couple who have been going at it for weeks. Just as Pink Floyd starts to bring you into dreams, your bedroom door flies open, hitting the wall behind it. You sit up suddenly, feeling your heart jump to your throat. "Where did she go?" He demands, turning on your light switch. When your brothers were home, this used to be their responsibility. Your oldest brother would always be between the two of them trying to work things out. Now that all landed on you. "I don't know? Did she leave?" You say, dumbly. "Give me your damn phone," he comes toward you, throwing the covers away and searching. You hand it to him, feeling scared that you've been left alone with someone so volatile. She usually warns you when she's leaving so you can run out together and go stay in a hotel until she decides she's ready to go back to him. What would he do now that she had left you alone with him? Now that he has your phone, he stomps out of the room and slams the door shut. The house falls deathly silent while you sit and wait for what happens next. After an hour, you still haven't heard a single sound. You decide to try to sneak out of the house and call someone to come pick you up. You sneak out into the hallway and see your parents door shut across the living room. The light is on underneath the door, so you know he's in there. You think about going in to make sure he's okay and tiptoe to press your ear to the door, leaving from far away so he can't see your shadow. You hear nothing and instantly think, What if he's killed himself? You shake the thought from your mind, knowing that this is your chance to get out. You don't bring anything with you, just grab your jacket and shut the front door slowly behind you. It's not like you can just walk into town when you live this far out. You start walking down the road, quickly, not thinking about where you're going. You're probably half a mile away from the house when you realize that you don't even have your phone. He took it. There's a cemetery on the right so you do the only sensible thing, go inside and lean against one of the tombstones, staring at the moon hanging low overhead. There's no way for your to walk far enough to get to town, so you decide this is as good as you're going to get. You're reminded of feelings from a few years ago when you laid on a urine-stained mattress and laughed about the fact that you'd rather be there than home. |
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I really had to purse my lips to contain my laughter at this post...I didn't want to look too crazy doubling over from
