Sinister: She lay in bed all night,watching the colours change from green to gold

[Joan of Dark]

Johnny turned 16....

And we are just walking around in circles until  tears fill our eyes and
our vision gets blurred.

Until you can't make out your way home. And it's dark. And its cold.

Everything seems surreal if you look closely. If you stop thinking about
yourself and look closely. And see the details. And the combinations
which you cant grasp. The things that can make the grinds of your mind
creak dangerously. Most frighteningly. And then you desperately want to
know why you won't ever again be able to live this moment. Never again.
tick
tack
tick
tack....
...moment to moment  The End  comes closer.

Then " Le Pastie " comes on the radio when you're cleaning tables..."
you drop the tray and go berserk".....
and then you come to  l  i  v  e  Belle and Sebastian. Or is it that
Belle and Sebastian have become a way of living perhaps?

Cos I work as a waitress. Sort of . Such a Belle and Sebastian-ish job.
It's this thought that gets me though. When I haven't even finished
studying for my Uni exams that start tomorrow....I could be -your-
waitress. Sort of . But I wouldn't really want to be the waitress of any
of the 1400 of you. Cos I wouldn't want to hate any of you. As I hate
the eyes of people. Scanning my body and sneaking in the creases and
openings of my clothes. Their mouths that don't tell me that my shirt
has been unbuttoned as I pick the broken glass from the floor. By that
time " Le Pastie " is gone.....and all that's left to me is " La
Bourgeoisie".

Belle and Sebastian? I have a strange tendency to write their full name.
I only own 2 of their albums and 3 ep's (The salary of a waitress is not
that high you know.Or you may not know as well ) Although I might not
listen to them that much ,or not at all lately....But I love them more
than anything. Well...not -them- I can't even tell who is who , apart
from Isobell and Sarah, if I saw them in a picture .

But, as I am trying to save something of the simplicity of my long lost
childhood, the precious  moments of utter happiness in the sight of a
butterfly flying against the sun or a single candy; I can find fragments
of my bruised, numb self, or a faint dream of an innocence I don't even
remember losing  playing hide and seek  in-between lyrics that are a wee
bit dissonant near the end and scattered notes of melodies swept by the
breeze, words whispered under one's breath.

My fingers are cold. And my heart hurts in my chest sometimes. Like it's
torn apart. And it opens up in two. And I hit my chest with my fist. So
that the hit will get deeply in. And then the pain might go.For a while.

Johnny turned 16.

Who is going to make  h  i  s  pain go??

And I am 19 and can only cheat my pain  for a little while. But above
all, myself.

Life, but how to live it?


xxx
joanna


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"but youth is only being in a way like it might be an animal. no, it is
not just like being an animal so much as being like one of those malenky
toys you viddy being sold in the streets, like little chello-vecks made
out of tin and with a spring inside and then a winding handle on the
outside and you wind it up grrr grrr grrr and off it itties , like
walking, O my brothers. But it itties in a straight line and bangs
straight into things bang bang and it cannot help what it is doing.
Being young is like being one of these malenky machines..."

"A Clockwork Orange"

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