“There are so many things Blair doesn’t get about me, so many things she ultimately overlooked, and things that she would never know, and there would always be a distance between us because there were too many shadows everywhere. Had she ever made promises to a faithless reflection in the mirror? Had she ever cried because she hated someone so much? Had she ever craved betrayal to the point where she pushed the crudest fantasies into reality, coming up with sequences that she and nobody else could read, moving the game as you play it? Could she locate the moment she went dead inside? Does she remember the year it took to become that way? The fades, the dissolves, the rewritten scenes, all the things you wipe away—I now want to explain all these things to her but I know I never will, the most important one being: I never liked anyone and I’m afraid of people.”—Bret Easton Ellis, Imperial Bedrooms (via oceanofbonedust)
Sunspots cast a glare in my eyes; sometimes I forget I’m alive. I feel it coming and I’ve gotta get out of its way. I hear it calling and I come cause I can’t disobey. I should not listen and I shouldn’t believe…but I do… yes, I do.
She turns me on. She makes me real.
I have to apologize for the way I feel.
My life, it seems, has taken a turn…why in the name of God would I ever want to return?
Peel off our skin, we’re gonna burn what we were to the ground, fuck in the fire, and we’ll spread all the ashes around.
I want to kill away the rest of what’s left, and I do… yes, I do.
And nothing can stop me now.
There is nothing to fear. And everything I’d ever want is inside of here…
Now I just stare into the sun, and I see everything I’ve done; I think I could have been someone, but I can’t stop what has begun.
When everything is said and done, and there is no place left to run; I think I used to be someone; now I just stare into the sun.
If you don’t know or care you’ll be alright I heard it’s modern to be stupid, you don’t need to talk to look good.
I surprised myself as my mouth started speaking. There is nothing left of my nerves, as I lean over to ask her:
"Pardon the intrusion: Could we leave before it gets bad? I might smash up all these windows, and set fire to the curtains” Until it goes on and eats it with its blue and red orange… Until the fire burns and eats it with its blue and red orange…
My hole, I’ll get my hole. I’ll get my hole, get my hole, get my hole… And I will find out more. It’s a choo-choo train; a rocket launch. If we have a hormone race, I’m bound to finish first.
Can you see in the dark? Can you see the look on your face? The flashing white light’s been turned off, you don’t know know who’s in your bed.
It takes more than fucking someone you don’t know to keep warm. Do you really think that for a house beat, you’ll find your love in a hole?
No you won’t find love in a, won’t find love in a hole. It takes more than fucking someoneto keep yourself warm.
I’m drunk, I’m drunk…and you’re probably on pills. If we both got the same diseases, it’s irrelevant, girl. In the room is the steam, it evaporates, disappears; My point of entry is the same way that I’ll leave.
See in the dark… Can you see the look on your face? The flashing white light’s been turned off; You don’t know know who’s in your bed. It takes more than fucking someone you don’t know to keep warm. Do you really think that for a house beat, You’ll find your love in a hole?
You said you wanted me to come over, and even though it was nearly midnight, I agreed.
I hit every red light between here and your house: start stop wait and wait and wait and start just to stop and wait again, stuck listening to weight-loss infomercials, right-wing talk radio, that god-awful jingle for the lawyer that tries to sound like a wild-west cowboy.
Idling under these red cyclops eyes, I wanted to tell you that this had to stop, that I was going home, that I’d see you tomorrow, maybe, but I finished the drive and remembered why: the red scent of your hair; your lips against my neck, saying, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m so glad you’re here.”