i am alone sitting outside the house where you wait. you have what i want, the yellow dress, my journal.
i tell you a lie, it has to do with how much i love you and how much i'm going to do better.
you stare out your window at me, jerk your head telling me to hide from your girl as she's leaving. her hair is pulled back, that thin frown ever present.
but that isn't the only thing. the only thing that there is, is need. my need versus your need, yours for power over me, mine for my journal, which carries not only my secrets but the secret of jared.
jared was my friend once, he lived in the middle of the city. we used to be musicians. i went to his house before he became an actor, he gave me a book by alan watts. is that his name? something about beat poetry. or the way of the beat poet. some dumb spiritual name for a book that i never read and would never read. spirituality is fake. trust me. i've seen the fake meditators who beat their children and cheat their friends out of every last sense of themselves for the sake of filling up the empty.
jared's boyfriend was there. i was supposed to act like i didn't know they were a couple. what they were didn't matter to me. i was just lonely.
that night we drank and jared kept disappearing, spoons were black, and people were passed out on the floor of that giant apartment building when you go up cahuenga from hollywood blvd. and turn right on franklin. the first building. you know the one.
we were up at the top. there was a fire escape, but no one even opened a window, we just listened to records---the sex pistols, marrianne faithfull, the cure, the clash until one of the needles just made that sound and all of us were too out of it to do anything.
robbie was his name, jared's friend. he died in that room with us, but i left sometime around 4 am, out walking around looking for my car. never afraid of the street. so close to gunshots and the jail that hides right near capitol records.
jared's secret is in my journal. i need it back. he's not going to be implicated, nothing happened, someone just took too much and i thought he was sleeping by the time i left.
you were there too, but i never told you. i didn't want you to carry that with you. i'll carry it for everyone, plus you told me that things made you break, that was when i stopped telling you the truth. maybe we can remember it together sometime. me on one side of the table knowing something i will never tell you and you on the other side asking me for something in exchange for my journal. but, at some point i'll go get us starbucks and i'll put the pill in yours and you will pass out and i will get what's mine.
i have some secrets i want to protect---none of them are mine---you and i lived--- when so many others were dead on accident.
