You think it means something, but it doesn't
Posted: Wed May 20, 2009 7:35 pm
Someone asked me to post something I've written so this is something I wrote and I'm posting it.
The last night train is packed full of drunken people. Obnoxiously loud, dressed up in their party outfits, they swagger and sway like this was a ship at sea. Having spent all their cash on drinks, they now fill the trains to avoid having to spend the cost of three and a half Caipirinhas on a taxi ride. I consider taking a taxi myself, but give up the thought out of apathy.
Six minutes before the train leaves. Yet more people come aboard. The crowd packs tighter, they push against each other. It's uncomfortable and hot. When the train finally departs, two girls end up standing next to me. They are everything that's wrong with the modern image of what a woman should be. Slutty clothes, layers of makeup over layers of makeup, annoying squeaky voices. The whole package.
One of them is dressed in a microskirt and a glossy pink hoodie that looks like it's made of plastic and reads "CHERRY GIRL" in silvery glitter, a blatant lie if I ever saw one. She's complementing her outfit with furry bunny ears, of all things. They look fuzzy and smooth, and I kinda want to touch her ears in an inappropriate way. Under that feminine armor it looks like she's really tiny and gaunt, like she was made of porcelain.
She's the kind of girl who looks pretty even without makeup, but her friend is not.
The makeup can't hide her pimples or slowly developing double neck, and her face looks like it's made of clay or something. Worst of all, she has these absurd fake lashes, they are seriously like two inches long. When she blinks, they flap like small jet black wings. It looks ridiculous, which is probably the point.
The fake eyelashes girl has her boyfriend with her. He looks like he complements the girl perfectly and that's pretty much everything that needs to be said about him. They are kissing, or more like sucking each others' face. I haven't seen so ugly kissing before in my life.
When the boyfriend moves to suck hickeys on the fake lashes girl's neck, she looks to bunny girl with a face of faked annoyance, trying and failing to hide her self-satisfaction. She says something, and bunny girl replies curtly. I can feel the resentment seeping from her like liquid ice. Her face is incredible, so full of disdain and scorn that I imagine her blood slowly turning into acid as she stands there, exchanging chitchat with her friend who is in the processs of being forced to wear a scarf for a week. She looks tired, so tired and annoyed. She looks like if she could end the world right here and now, she'd do it without a second thought.
When the train stops on a quiet suburban station, bunny girl and me have to step out to make way for the people unloading from the train.
The alarm sound for the doors closing plays, but bunny girl makes no move to get back in. She stands still on the platform, staring silently at her friend. The friend yells something at her but I can't make out what it is over the noise.
The doors close, and both me and bunny girl are left standing there. We stare at the red backlights grow smaller until they disappear. I regret not getting back on a little, that was the last train after all, but it's too late now.
"What now, bunny girl?", I ask and she turns to regard me with a blank, unreadable face.
The bar is terrible. On a normal night I wouldn't even think of setting my foot in such a hellhole, but it's the only bar around so we don't have a choice. Luckily the regulars leave us alone, so I buy an apple cider and a Gin Tonic. One for her, one for me. We sit down and talk. It seems to be what the bunny girl wants.
She tells me all the little things that there are to know about her and I listen. How she's too dumb to get on any school so she works at a fast food restaurant, wishing every day that the manager would choke on a burger. How she wants to choke her friends who are, unbeliavably enough, dumber than she is. How she wants to choke her neighbours who have too loud sex (there seems to be a lot of pent up anger in bunny girl). How she likes chocolate ice cream more than anything, and how she likes rabbits because they are so cuddly. That's why she has bunny ears on a party night. She likes rabbits.
On the taxi ride from the bar, she suddenly leans against my shoulder. I look at her, but she's staring blankly ahead, out of the windshield, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The bunny girl is crying without a sound. I put my arm around her and say nothing.
My place is on the sixth floor of a eight floor condo. Furnished with almost nothing but IKEA, it's not the pinnacle of good taste but it works for me.
"Could you put on some music?"
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
"I only buy music that can be listened to on a Sunday afternoon. And it's Saturday night now."
"That's weird."
I consider explaining her my great music theory, but decide that this is not the time. So I end up putting on some Sunday afternoon music anyway and then walk back to her.
We do it on the bed slowly.
The moon shining from outside of my window reflects from her eyes in a mysterious way, captivating me. I almost forget myself right there. She's really lovely in bed I think, all timid and cute. She's like a rabbit.
In the middle of it all she suddenly stops and looks at my eyes pretty seriously.
"You're right. This is pretty weird sex music."
"I know."
She giggles, but I don't think there is anything to laugh about here so I jam myself into her harder until she has to start moaning instead of laughing. She falls asleep not even a second after she comes.
When I wake up, it's already Sunday afternoon and the bunny girl is nowhere to be found. She left the ears on my kitchen table. I feel the fuzzy fur in a somewhat inappropriate way, it's soft and nice. It's very much like her.
I put on some afternoon music and make myself a cup of coffee.
The last night train is packed full of drunken people. Obnoxiously loud, dressed up in their party outfits, they swagger and sway like this was a ship at sea. Having spent all their cash on drinks, they now fill the trains to avoid having to spend the cost of three and a half Caipirinhas on a taxi ride. I consider taking a taxi myself, but give up the thought out of apathy.
Six minutes before the train leaves. Yet more people come aboard. The crowd packs tighter, they push against each other. It's uncomfortable and hot. When the train finally departs, two girls end up standing next to me. They are everything that's wrong with the modern image of what a woman should be. Slutty clothes, layers of makeup over layers of makeup, annoying squeaky voices. The whole package.
One of them is dressed in a microskirt and a glossy pink hoodie that looks like it's made of plastic and reads "CHERRY GIRL" in silvery glitter, a blatant lie if I ever saw one. She's complementing her outfit with furry bunny ears, of all things. They look fuzzy and smooth, and I kinda want to touch her ears in an inappropriate way. Under that feminine armor it looks like she's really tiny and gaunt, like she was made of porcelain.
She's the kind of girl who looks pretty even without makeup, but her friend is not.
The makeup can't hide her pimples or slowly developing double neck, and her face looks like it's made of clay or something. Worst of all, she has these absurd fake lashes, they are seriously like two inches long. When she blinks, they flap like small jet black wings. It looks ridiculous, which is probably the point.
The fake eyelashes girl has her boyfriend with her. He looks like he complements the girl perfectly and that's pretty much everything that needs to be said about him. They are kissing, or more like sucking each others' face. I haven't seen so ugly kissing before in my life.
When the boyfriend moves to suck hickeys on the fake lashes girl's neck, she looks to bunny girl with a face of faked annoyance, trying and failing to hide her self-satisfaction. She says something, and bunny girl replies curtly. I can feel the resentment seeping from her like liquid ice. Her face is incredible, so full of disdain and scorn that I imagine her blood slowly turning into acid as she stands there, exchanging chitchat with her friend who is in the processs of being forced to wear a scarf for a week. She looks tired, so tired and annoyed. She looks like if she could end the world right here and now, she'd do it without a second thought.
When the train stops on a quiet suburban station, bunny girl and me have to step out to make way for the people unloading from the train.
The alarm sound for the doors closing plays, but bunny girl makes no move to get back in. She stands still on the platform, staring silently at her friend. The friend yells something at her but I can't make out what it is over the noise.
The doors close, and both me and bunny girl are left standing there. We stare at the red backlights grow smaller until they disappear. I regret not getting back on a little, that was the last train after all, but it's too late now.
"What now, bunny girl?", I ask and she turns to regard me with a blank, unreadable face.
The bar is terrible. On a normal night I wouldn't even think of setting my foot in such a hellhole, but it's the only bar around so we don't have a choice. Luckily the regulars leave us alone, so I buy an apple cider and a Gin Tonic. One for her, one for me. We sit down and talk. It seems to be what the bunny girl wants.
She tells me all the little things that there are to know about her and I listen. How she's too dumb to get on any school so she works at a fast food restaurant, wishing every day that the manager would choke on a burger. How she wants to choke her friends who are, unbeliavably enough, dumber than she is. How she wants to choke her neighbours who have too loud sex (there seems to be a lot of pent up anger in bunny girl). How she likes chocolate ice cream more than anything, and how she likes rabbits because they are so cuddly. That's why she has bunny ears on a party night. She likes rabbits.
On the taxi ride from the bar, she suddenly leans against my shoulder. I look at her, but she's staring blankly ahead, out of the windshield, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The bunny girl is crying without a sound. I put my arm around her and say nothing.
My place is on the sixth floor of a eight floor condo. Furnished with almost nothing but IKEA, it's not the pinnacle of good taste but it works for me.
"Could you put on some music?"
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea."
"I only buy music that can be listened to on a Sunday afternoon. And it's Saturday night now."
"That's weird."
I consider explaining her my great music theory, but decide that this is not the time. So I end up putting on some Sunday afternoon music anyway and then walk back to her.
We do it on the bed slowly.
The moon shining from outside of my window reflects from her eyes in a mysterious way, captivating me. I almost forget myself right there. She's really lovely in bed I think, all timid and cute. She's like a rabbit.
In the middle of it all she suddenly stops and looks at my eyes pretty seriously.
"You're right. This is pretty weird sex music."
"I know."
She giggles, but I don't think there is anything to laugh about here so I jam myself into her harder until she has to start moaning instead of laughing. She falls asleep not even a second after she comes.
When I wake up, it's already Sunday afternoon and the bunny girl is nowhere to be found. She left the ears on my kitchen table. I feel the fuzzy fur in a somewhat inappropriate way, it's soft and nice. It's very much like her.
I put on some afternoon music and make myself a cup of coffee.