The Nobodies

I had a friend and he always liked to copy everyone. Big watches and leather. Denim jackets and palladium shoes. Camel smokes and heavy metal. He always liked what he did. 

Sad or happy, he was there. Always copying our modus vivendi. Because he could. Because we let him. Because it was in. Because there was no turning back.

"The toys all smell like children

And scab-knees will obey

I'll have to kneel on broomsticks

Just to make it go away"

Marilyn Manson sang privately in my bedroom parties. Our friend always mimicked us no mattter what he thought of us. No matter what we thought of him.

A guitar solo. A poem. A tear. He always did the same. We were one. We were one big mess. Same colors. Same shadows. My walls were red. But we could spot him in the dark.

"You were my mechanical bride 

You were phenobarbidoll 

A manniqueen of depression 

With the face of a dead star 

And I was a hand grenade 

That never stopped exploding 

You were automatic and as hollow as the "o" in god"

Manson kept singing. Our friend went to the toilet. We waited. He came back. 

"How was it?", I asked

"Relieving", he fired back

"What do you mean?" I continued

"The darkness left my body", he said.

Hrms Coldwell

18.8.2014

The Sound Of Pissing I

When I was in college, I was always afraid to urinate when girls were around. I was afraid to pee directly into the toilet bowl because I had the feeling that girls judged the size of your cock by the sound of the flow, and I didn't want any kind of judgment going on. So I would always pee on the inside of the bowl and sometimes it would go a little over the edge. But with Melanie, I would take two big empty grapefruit juice bottles, fill them with water and dump them one at a time, very slowly into the toilet bowl. This would go on for five minutes while she was outside, screaming with laughter. [Taken from "College Girls", by Spalding Gray]

10.01.13

Contributed by Villardo Ricalobos