12.08.2005
Midnight... not a sound on the pavement...
Got this from Calliope, and since you all know by now what a huge solipsist I am...
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME.
It can be anything you want--good or bad--BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.
When you're finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you.
Read or Post a Comment
Hey, do you remember that time that we were walking next to the ocean, and there were two sets of footprints? We were up near Yachats, Oregon, up on top of the rocky cliffs overlooking the tiny strip of sand where the Pacific meets land. As we were walking along, you were going on and on about how the two sets of footprints were such a great metaphor for our lives, sorta like that stupid poem about how some dude carried the other one when life was rough. All of a sudden the footprints I was following took a tangent and ran off the cliff. Remember that? Neither do I.
Do you remember that time we went to Wendover together, and you got WASTED? After I had given up getting you to go to the room, I dropped a dollar into the slot machine, and I hit the jackpot? Then I got waisted, and placed all my winings on one hand of blackjack. However, because I was so waisted, I hit on a seventeen when the dealer was showing a 5, and busted?
Neither do I.
Remember that car accident we were in and I lost my eye from the chickens beak? If only we'd had the brakes repaired before driving to the shop for more beer I wouldn't have to wear this annoying patch. In slow motion I recall again and again the way the car slid into the back of that truck, the crash of the poultry cages and the clouds of bloodied feathers in the air. People were horrified when they saw the bird hanging from my face, beak embedded in the bloodied hole that used to hold my eyeball. I'll always be grateful for the way that you held my hand as the paramedics removed the chicken, even though your legs had been trapped by a box of Rhode Island Red bantams. Thankyou dear friend, thankyou.
Remember when we were in Newfoundland together? We had that adorable little hotel by the lake and the owner would bring us breakfast every morning? And we would go on walks all afternoon talking about our lives and how they haven't turned out like we planned? Then we had to be human again and go back to our respective lives, but we keep thinking about how much fun we had that week and promising to do it again.
Why haven't we?
Oh my god, you know what i thought of this morning? That time we woke up in the dressing room of that drag bar with those crazy sequined corsets on? i thought when that queen invited us backstage she just wanted to show us her new breast implants, but the next thing we knew we were parading around in all the wild outfits and wigs and then she shoved us out on stage. i didn't think we were going to funnel that fifth of vodka, but everyone was cheering us on! The last thing i remember was being carried off above the crowd and having random body parts grabbed by shirtless gay men with glow sticks... Wow, weren't those the days?