how old do you have to be to have sex? really, how old? freckles on your young shoulders. interactions that require physicality. bored with kissing. sorry child actors, sorry sorry. pink with sun. how old are they and the title tells me, kids.
baby doll girls shown nothing kindness they throw away. vhs schadenfreude.
so much around virginity. big moment when you're a kid. big moment anyway, but as a kid it's a chip, it's a sack, it's a hundred pounds. flippant though. when it's gone it matters less.
I wonder what it feels like to be thirteen, twelve, and smoke weed. I'll have to wait til another lifetime.
it's never you. it's always a you. that's the thing with probability. one in a thousand means one time every thousand. every time. Danny boy was playing. I had a friend called Danny boy. he's missing now.
groups! what can I say, groups! Daniel Johnston here would crash his plane to be in a group like that.
all those creepy taxi drivers have rich inner lives. have desires that they are told exist in lack, in externality, that can only be satisfied by pleasure. their planes of desire are created and destroyed in the span of a car ride. arrows go two ways. nothing is over and some things cannot be undone.
"do you think you killed that guy". procreating death. light actions with heavy consequences. young young girls.
I never tried malt liquor as a kid.
before you know, your life is just normal. it's bliss. it's adolescent joy. is it even real before you know? I sort of don't think so. I know that's wrong, but your body changes when you find out.
what's the best way to splash in a pool? pushing forward or swiping to the side?
it's so hard to be a girl around guys. hard to be one of the guys, hard to not be. endlessly harassed by your friends. assumed you want to be handled a certain way. worse, not assumed at all.
who's having fun and who's on drugs. do you search for what is only internal (the drugs, the cold?) at the rave? how old do you have to be to not be pretending adult, instead becoming adult? if the whole room is populated kids, how old are they? do you only age forwards?
their faces and teeth are all so young that I forget being there.
how many oaths are truths slipping out from a place of true desire. how long does it take to be an adult? what's the balance of forcing one upon another and telling the truth? a permanent piece pervading other's perceptions of your adultness. I'd sleep in a bathtub to smoke weed again. but to smoke every day? maybe not.
the language of adulthood bleeds in everyone's language. babihood versus childhood. childhood as young adulthood. as toned down that will tone up up up. whose apartment is this?
we're all going to die. but I don't know how I will. how long until we know how we die? it's different for everyone. so how long until I know.
I can't believe how easy it is. my mom told me it would be, for boys to tell you what you want to hear. I didn't have to believe her, and I'm lucky for that.

getting there too late, and not bold enough to say why. I can't fault her for not being bold. it would take pounds and tons and nautical miles to be bold enough to say in the moment. and once again, whose fucking apartment!? little sloshy bottomos of backwash giving .005 alcohol blood stream hits from a cigarette. are you really so desperate? what's missing from all of them? does he ever get to know? is it his own punishment or a way to punish all in his wake without knowing.
a body that is stolen over passively weaponized. I can't say good. but deserving. another quiet rape. at least with consequences. boys who think their identity releaves their culpability. familiar legs on shoulders. familiar fucking on couches.
quiet in the street. tracks of life. and who can say that this too isn't deeply living.
I don't think I'm getting the job. I think there are more floors to sleep on. fucking is a way to go back inside yourself.

I guess all I can say is I'm not surprised.