IGKTW Round 3 -- Nothing Like the Sun (457 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: IGKTW
Rating: 1.72 on 15 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Coyote (View user info) at 2006-05-11 00:41:44 EDT
"Yes I'm lonely, wanna die
Yes I'm lonely, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Girl you know the reason why"
Carefully draw the brush across your skin.
Watch the hue lighten, through a stranger's eyes. When you pause and look into the mirror, the sight of those arctic new irises brings the sensation of the contacts abruptly back to your consciousness, and the invisible hooks of the tic jerk at your eyelids again.
Easy now. You don't want any teardrops to mar your mask.
You look ungodly pale by the mercuric light of the television, but by the time you carefully consume your ham and eggs and coffee and leave your apartment the indiscriminate Sun will lend a measure of its warmth to your camouflage, completing the illusion.
Mute the television when the rerun of last night's top news story replays on the early morning show. The brother didn't keep his head down, got caught out where he shouldn't have been, got what he had coming. Troublemakers. Nothing to do with you; you're a productive member of society.
Using those stranger's eyes to look out across the yard in the false dawn, you can almost convince yourself that it's the pungent fumes of the hair-straightener that keep making your eyes water that way.
"In the morning, wanna die
In the evening, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Ooh, girl you know the reason why"
You're going to meet the girl from the office for a drink after work. Second time. You know you shouldn't; you're only safe as long as you cling to routine, as long as you don't slip up. But you can't resist the warmth of her smile. You sound like a man in command when you tell yourself that it's platonic, that nothing can happen. There is no question of impulse under control, for you have no ragged loose ends of emotion that require controlling.
But it's nice to laugh, for once, without looking over your shoulder.
You're putting yourself in temptation's way—again—with all that implies. (Caught out where you shouldn't be?) But you're the master, not the slave, and you need the challenge to prove to yourself that this time it can work.
You don't have to be alone.
"My mother was of the sky
My father was of the earth
But I am of the universe—
And you know what that's worth"
You always let your guard down when they fall for your charm. You're wanted. It's not the icy cobalt eyes and the bottle-blond coiffure they're after; at worst they see the six-figure salary and the Armani suit and you could be bright purple for all they'd notice.
What you should do is enjoy the company, have your brief moment in the sun of human contact, disgust yourself with a moment's idle speculation—maybe she's like me, maybe she's camouflaged too?—and split.
But you can't, can you?
You're not going to betray yourself again, you're not going to fall into that old trap that's taken so many of your brothers. So, given that you're too smart to get caught, what's the harm?
The moment arrives; that third drink point of no return, when the horns of the dilemma neatly split the moment between the waiter's asking if you need another round and the laughing acquiescence, another scotch here and a chocolate martini for the lady.
"Yes I'm lonely, wanna die
Yes I'm lonely, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Ooh, girl you know the reason why"
Back at your place some June night, she takes her coffee black and giggles. Want to play truth or dare?
Could she be the one? There are stories. It's been known to happen, and there's always the underground railroad to BC if it's for real. You hear the gossip round the office, would people be so afraid of it if it never happened?
And after all, she loves you. In her sloe-eyed, drunken way, she loves you. She can hardly focus, how could she see skin color now?
Fuck it, you have to tell someone. The time is now; you're going to fucking break if you have to keep it pent up any longer. And the way she's going for your fly and looking deep into your (stranger's, artic, cobalt) eyes, you're going to have to give it to her one way or the other pretty soon.
What's the worst that could happen? Does she have it in her to turn you in (got what he had coming)?
"Black cloud crossed my mind
Blue mist round my soul
Feel so suicidal
Even hate my rock 'n' roll"
I can't believe it happened again. Her name was Alicia, and while I was digging her grave I was embarrassed to realize that I can't even remember if she was number seven or eight. Call it seven, I ain't no manwhore. She was going to rat me out to the Citizen's Patrol, she said so. Or, at least, I could tell she was thinking about it. Just like Charlene, number one. I always trust the wrong ones.
Well she can't be takin' nothin' away from me now. Shoulda known better I reckon, but it's all good. There's gonna be a prayer service at work, and I figger I'm gonna get called upon to say a few words, seeing as we was so close. Too bad about them fuckin' niggers, I'm gonna say.
I wanted to protect her, but she went walkin' out where she shouldn'a.
I know better now. With her, that was too close a call. She had her cell phone right there in her purse, it coulda been the end of me. What would you rather have? Like the poet said, "life in a box is better than no life at all." From now on, I'm taking it lone-wolf style.
"Yes I'm lonely, wanna die
If I ain't dead already
Ooh, girl you know the reason why"
Carefully draw the brush across your skin.
Watch the hue lighten, through a stranger's eyes. When you pause and look into the mirror, the sight of those arctic new irises brings the sensation of the contacts abruptly back to your consciousness, and the invisible hooks of the tic tug at your eyelids again.
Easy now. You don't want any teardrops to mar your mask.
Mute the television when the rerun of last night's top news story replays on the early morning show. The whitegirl didn't keep her head down, got caught out where she shouldn't have been, got what she had coming. Nigger-lovers. Nothing to do with you; you're a productive member of society.
[Lyrics to "Yer Blues" quoted from Lennon/McCartney]
User Reviews
Submitted by Alter (user info) at 2007-09-26 20:30:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No, Comment.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-05-13 16:02:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The eagle picks my eye
The worm he licks my bones
I feel so suicidal
Just like Dylan's Mr. Jones
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2006-05-12 12:26:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-05-11 11:42:42 (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-05-11 14:43:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Some typos/grammatical weirdness we can let slide.
+2 because it was good, and because you and I both took a look at an alternate world/future where things are screwy.
Submitted by gank (user info) at 2006-05-11 13:34:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I give you the edge over your opponent.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-05-11 11:42:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fantastic.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-05-11 11:04:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I wasn't fond... I just hope my review is removed in the round up cos clearly everyone else like it !
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-05-11 09:27:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
:(
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-05-11 06:56:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Pretty good.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2006-05-11 01:14:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is just brilliant. Awesome job.
Stop telling yourself you can only write when you're drinking or I'll hunt you down and cut bits off you.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-11 00:56:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nothing like pride in what you are, you devious old man.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-05-11 00:52:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Sneaky is good. Devious is better.
I've never been prouder in my life than when a coworker introduced me to one of his friends, saying "he's a good devious bastard."
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-11 00:47:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Probably 'sneaky' because it was such an insidious little tale.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-11 00:47:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
For some reason, "You sneaky motherfucker, that was excellent" was the first phrase that came to mind after reading this. Why sneaky? I don't know.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-05-11 00:46:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm not even sure if this makes sense, but several whiskeys are telling me to submit. Skate it off, punks.