201SB
04/05/09, 12:04 PM
I guess I'll make an introduction before I post this one..
I'm 18 and hail from Bergen County, New Jersey. I don't feel comfortable saying which town I live in, but that is because of my own insecurities, it has nothing to do with crazy internet stalkers or anything like that. I live a "double life" as some would call it, never voicing my true opinions in front of my friends, but I'm not depressed. I've been visiting this website on and off for the past few years, mostly for music reviews and album release dates. I saw the poetry/lyrics section and thought I'd share what I write.
Sorry it's not poetry..
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She sat in a chair in the salon, waiting to receive her monthly bikini wax. She was reading an old issue of 'People' magazine, the main story being about a teenage actress that was just sent off to rehab for a cocaine addiction. She let out a sigh and placed the magazine on the table.
He rolled out of his bed, landing on top of old Chinese food cartons, pizza boxes, and empty beer cans. He crawled across the floor and got in the shower, instantly turning the water as hot as it went, the familiar feeling of the scolding hot water awakening him. He dried off using a moldy towel, than walked to his closet and threw on a pair of denim pants and a t-shirt. He began to scavenge around his room looking for a bag of pot, finally finding one underneath a dirty pile of clothes.
As she laid there getting bikini wax, she thought of what she was going to do that day. Where would she shop? What purse would she take with her? Which friend would she invite out for dinner and clubbing that night? As all of this ran through her head, the little Asian woman who had the responsibility of waxing her beautiful vagina smiled peacefully each time she inhaled the glorious smell of what reminded her of a garden.
He inhaled the THC into his lungs, the pot making a crackling sound as it burned. The familiar feeling of the smoke filling his lungs and exiting through his nose gave him comfort. Four hits later, the bowl was done and he was ready to begin his day. He entered his kitchen and cracked open a can of cheap, stale beer. He slipped on his Nike's, retrieved his sunglasses from the counter, and walked out his front door. Once outside, he lit a menthol cigarette and turned left on the sidewalk. Where he was going didn't matter, he wasn't going to let the significance of this day ruin his good mood.
She paid for her wax while talking on a cell phone with her best friend from high school. She ignored the little Asian woman standing there expecting a tip and exited the salon. She doesn't quite know why she called this friend, but it was too late for her to change her mind and she wanted to keep her mind off of things. The significance of this day wasn't going to ruin her good mood. Especially after a $250 wax. She left the store, turned right, and began walking.
He exited the liquor still yelling at the cashier, who insulted him for buying alcohol at such an early time of the day. 'A guy can drink whenever he wants', he thought to himself, 'and no piece of shit cashier is going to stop me'. He continued walking towards the beach, towards his friends condominium. Up the street, he saw her walking towards him. It looked like she was heading from the salon, which didn't surprise him at all. He crossed his fingers, flicked his cigarette, and hoped to god she wouldn't make a huge scene.
She saw him walking toward her, and she couldn't believe that he was still alive. She hadn't heard from her ex-boyfriend in over six months, and whenever she went to his apartment and tried hopelessly ringing the doorbell, nobody ever answered. She was in total shock that this bastard was not only alive and well, but walking towards her with that same smirk on his face. She hoped to god that he didn't remember her face. If they were still together, this day would be there three year anniversary. She contemplated turning around and walking back into the salon, but didn't want to make a scene.
He was surprised to see her continue walking towards him. Maybe she didn't remember him? That couldn't be. Today would be there three year anniversary if they were still together. He missed her smell, her hair, her touch. He missed waking up next to her on Sunday mornings and making her breakfast. She was still getting closer. 'Why did I ruin what I had?', he thought to himself. She was within fifty yards now. He began sweating bullets and pulled out another cigarette, only to put it back because his hands were shaking too much for him to hold the lighter underneath.
He still loved her.
She still loved him.
They were within ten yards now. He was sweating.
She was five yards away from the love of her life. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.
He walked past her. He stil loved her, but could not stand to see her.
Once she passed him, she began to run. She didn't know where she was running to, only hoping to never see him again. She let out a loud scream, still running down the street towards his apartment, the place she used to call home. She could not stop crying.
He wondered if she still thought of him. He turned back, only to see her running and hear her screaming. He lit the cigarette he could not light before, and felt himself calm down as he inhaled. Where was she running to? It was their three year anniversary. He began to run, the opposite way. Away from his past, away from his feelings.
She wondered if he still thought of her. She stopped running and turned back, only to see him running in the opposite direction. She turned toward him and began to run. She ran towards her past, but knew she would never catch it. geovisit();http://visit.geocities.com/visit.gif?&r=http%3A//geocities.com/liam12790/&b=Netscape%205.0%20%28Windows%3B%20 en-US%29&s=1024x768&o=Win32&c=32&j=false&v=1.2 http://visit.geocities.yahoo.com/visit.gif?us1238954443 http://geo.yahoo.com/serv?s=76001548&t=1238954443&f=us-w6
I'm 18 and hail from Bergen County, New Jersey. I don't feel comfortable saying which town I live in, but that is because of my own insecurities, it has nothing to do with crazy internet stalkers or anything like that. I live a "double life" as some would call it, never voicing my true opinions in front of my friends, but I'm not depressed. I've been visiting this website on and off for the past few years, mostly for music reviews and album release dates. I saw the poetry/lyrics section and thought I'd share what I write.
Sorry it's not poetry..
--------------------------------------------------------------------
She sat in a chair in the salon, waiting to receive her monthly bikini wax. She was reading an old issue of 'People' magazine, the main story being about a teenage actress that was just sent off to rehab for a cocaine addiction. She let out a sigh and placed the magazine on the table.
He rolled out of his bed, landing on top of old Chinese food cartons, pizza boxes, and empty beer cans. He crawled across the floor and got in the shower, instantly turning the water as hot as it went, the familiar feeling of the scolding hot water awakening him. He dried off using a moldy towel, than walked to his closet and threw on a pair of denim pants and a t-shirt. He began to scavenge around his room looking for a bag of pot, finally finding one underneath a dirty pile of clothes.
As she laid there getting bikini wax, she thought of what she was going to do that day. Where would she shop? What purse would she take with her? Which friend would she invite out for dinner and clubbing that night? As all of this ran through her head, the little Asian woman who had the responsibility of waxing her beautiful vagina smiled peacefully each time she inhaled the glorious smell of what reminded her of a garden.
He inhaled the THC into his lungs, the pot making a crackling sound as it burned. The familiar feeling of the smoke filling his lungs and exiting through his nose gave him comfort. Four hits later, the bowl was done and he was ready to begin his day. He entered his kitchen and cracked open a can of cheap, stale beer. He slipped on his Nike's, retrieved his sunglasses from the counter, and walked out his front door. Once outside, he lit a menthol cigarette and turned left on the sidewalk. Where he was going didn't matter, he wasn't going to let the significance of this day ruin his good mood.
She paid for her wax while talking on a cell phone with her best friend from high school. She ignored the little Asian woman standing there expecting a tip and exited the salon. She doesn't quite know why she called this friend, but it was too late for her to change her mind and she wanted to keep her mind off of things. The significance of this day wasn't going to ruin her good mood. Especially after a $250 wax. She left the store, turned right, and began walking.
He exited the liquor still yelling at the cashier, who insulted him for buying alcohol at such an early time of the day. 'A guy can drink whenever he wants', he thought to himself, 'and no piece of shit cashier is going to stop me'. He continued walking towards the beach, towards his friends condominium. Up the street, he saw her walking towards him. It looked like she was heading from the salon, which didn't surprise him at all. He crossed his fingers, flicked his cigarette, and hoped to god she wouldn't make a huge scene.
She saw him walking toward her, and she couldn't believe that he was still alive. She hadn't heard from her ex-boyfriend in over six months, and whenever she went to his apartment and tried hopelessly ringing the doorbell, nobody ever answered. She was in total shock that this bastard was not only alive and well, but walking towards her with that same smirk on his face. She hoped to god that he didn't remember her face. If they were still together, this day would be there three year anniversary. She contemplated turning around and walking back into the salon, but didn't want to make a scene.
He was surprised to see her continue walking towards him. Maybe she didn't remember him? That couldn't be. Today would be there three year anniversary if they were still together. He missed her smell, her hair, her touch. He missed waking up next to her on Sunday mornings and making her breakfast. She was still getting closer. 'Why did I ruin what I had?', he thought to himself. She was within fifty yards now. He began sweating bullets and pulled out another cigarette, only to put it back because his hands were shaking too much for him to hold the lighter underneath.
He still loved her.
She still loved him.
They were within ten yards now. He was sweating.
She was five yards away from the love of her life. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks.
He walked past her. He stil loved her, but could not stand to see her.
Once she passed him, she began to run. She didn't know where she was running to, only hoping to never see him again. She let out a loud scream, still running down the street towards his apartment, the place she used to call home. She could not stop crying.
He wondered if she still thought of him. He turned back, only to see her running and hear her screaming. He lit the cigarette he could not light before, and felt himself calm down as he inhaled. Where was she running to? It was their three year anniversary. He began to run, the opposite way. Away from his past, away from his feelings.
She wondered if he still thought of her. She stopped running and turned back, only to see him running in the opposite direction. She turned toward him and began to run. She ran towards her past, but knew she would never catch it. geovisit();http://visit.geocities.com/visit.gif?&r=http%3A//geocities.com/liam12790/&b=Netscape%205.0%20%28Windows%3B%20 en-US%29&s=1024x768&o=Win32&c=32&j=false&v=1.2 http://visit.geocities.yahoo.com/visit.gif?us1238954443 http://geo.yahoo.com/serv?s=76001548&t=1238954443&f=us-w6