« buck wild | Main | on down the road/Rhode/rode »
June 26, 2005
blatantism
as much as I think about and complain to myself about how completely self-absorbed s. is—because it’s incredible just how much attention he demands while refusing to even listen to somebody else finish a sentence let alone pause for an exceptional moment that itself as well as I demand he take in (e.g.s: the night I worked through to finish a site for launch that day, he commented, I said—when he’s at computer browing the winterneb, mind you—here, I’ll show you what I did (intending just a quick glance at the home page, and considering he up to then had no idea what I did/do for a living despite my having to hear about his job daily)—he actually told me he didn’t have time! I was going to bullet point the time today actually when food and g. came up and I opened the photo (pro, cofeetable, not my album) book right there next to us to clarify the kind of people I was talking about (again, a subject he knows nothing about, and that, way more than a stupid job, should interest anybody!) and he craned head over to slightly peek at one photo before turning back to walk away. Then later he stood over me while I was at computer and spent significant time explaining to me why Mexicans come to the US and also why he says he traditional prayers “even though they might look funny to me” “it’s kinda like you exercise on your computer, this make me feel more balanced”….okay, whew, that turned into a rant, when actually what I was going to say at the outset was as lame and over the top as it is, I actually prefer it that way because 1, in generaly, I, ironically, despite my dutiful attention, thought ful comments, and help given where /when can, don’t really care all that much about him, and didn’t move in here to rent a friend but a room, so as much time as I sacrifice now, if he actually took an interest in me too, that might, heaven forbid, double that hemorrage. And more to the point, expecially lately, I can be in my room, he in his room next door, MAYbe forty feet away at most, door open, no music, and I can be puffikng away on my crack, making intermittent lighter noises—and if you’ve never been in a position to monitor decibel levels and piercing qualities of sounds, you may be surprised to learn that ligthers carry, they don’t blend, they’re relatively loud (enough, anyway), plus that acrid sweet smoke. and what the hell am I in here doing all the time at ever hour anyway? but no, it doesn’t occur to him. he’s sweetly oblivous. dropping grapes all over the floor. which makes it convenient for me. i just have to be alert for when he marches in to bum another smoke. he does it constantly. he smokes more of mysmokes than i do, coming into my room at like 5am when I’m asleep (until that moment anyway) to take a smoke from my pack. I have for a long time nwo, taken to leaving the pack on the edge of the mantel closets the door so they are convenient fo r him and least disruptive to me when he wants one. but the pay back is easy apartment crack smokin’! oh, and fresh rocks or pebble pieces make a very loud very distinctive wet sparkin sparkling sizzle sound (actually where the name/term crack comes from . the sound of crispin’ cringlin’ crack. maybe the ever 2-3 minute lighter sound could be a cigarette or a nervous tick and the smoke the cigarettes getting stale and mingling with my own filthy stink and body odor, but that sizzle sound, as if I’m cooking quick bacon right here on my bed ever 30 minutes…hmmm… that doesn’t arouse any curiosity if not outright suspicioun? but that’s good. you keep your youthful israeli innocense, forrest.
Posted by peligrito at June 26, 2005 10:40 PM
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://atribology.net/mt/mt-tb.cgi/22
Comments
Post a comment
Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)