| My life's in jeopardy, murdered in cold blood is what I'm gonna be |
[Jun. 30th, 2006|12:43 am] |
| [ | Yo |
| |  anxious | ] |
| [ | Crunk tunes |
| | The Who - My Wife | ] |
So today me and Bizcit finally brought flowers to Scott's grave. He's been dead about two and a half months now and they still don't have a headstone up. This is the second time in a few days we've been out there, and the first time it was kind of creepy (as much as I hate to admit) because it was getting towards night and you know... Cemetery.
Normally when I drive by cemeteries or funeral homes I have to hold my breath because of some superstition I made up myself. I don't even know what I think is going to happen if I breathe, but it gets bad. I'm actually good at holding my breath though, I can sit through a red light by a cemetery or funeral home (if it's not an especially long one).
But obviously I couldn't this time because we were there for about twenty or thirty minutes I'd guess. Both times. The first time might have been longer because when we first got there there was already someone else visiting his grave and we didn't want to interrupt, so we kind of skulked around in the background looking at other graves. Bizcit found a grave of a baby that was born and died on her birthday.
This time it was weird because we went to go buy the flowers and when we were there we ran into our old principal. He said hi and asked how our summer was going and we answered and chatted a little and then he asked who we were getting the flowers for. I had the impulse to lie and say something like, "My mom," just to avoid an awkward situation. I think Bizcit had the same though, cos we both kind of looked at each other, but we finally just kind of told him (involving a lot of shoe-gazing) and it's so weird how you can just feel the casual cheerfulness sucked out of a situation.
I took this time to reflect on how weird it felt that ten minutes ago we'd been eating ice cream and talking about MSI and then we got in my car and started driving around, trying to decide what to do, and were like, "Let's go put flowers on Scott's grave."
So that's what we ended up doing, of course, as I already told you at the start of this very chronologically confused account.
This time it was really hot outside, and no one else was there when we got there. It still felt just like a repeat of last time, us going and crouching there and looking at the grass seeds that are stubbornly refusing to grow on his grave, and me not really knowing what to say, but like I need to say something. I even dropped my keys while I crouching there exactly like I had the time before. At least this time we had flowers.
I just kept thinking, I didn't even know what to say to him because all I can think to say is, "Sorry I didn't go out with you freshman year when you kept asking me, and I'm sorry it got all confused and Kayla told you that I'd say 'yes', but I think you forgave me for being such a stupid bitch cos you hugged me a lot even after that and I really loved your hands I thought they were very pretty." But I know that doesn't even matter because I was probably the furthest thought from his mind. And I want to tell him, "I'm sorry you're buried here in this stupid town next to all these stupid old people you didn't even know." But I guess that doesn't really matter either.
But I think if I died it would matter to me. While we were sitting there, the train went by the cemetery and I thought it's so stupid how everything moves, and all these stupid people who aren't any better than we are move around everywhere and it's like we're stuck here forever. It's not forever, though, is it? Most of us won't ever leave because we're not ambitious or bright enough to even want to leave (even just for a little while). But I will, I'll leave when I graduate and whether I stay in Austin or go to New York, or Chicago, or Portland, at least I'll be out of Taylor. But I feel bad for Scott because he's stuck in Taylor forever and he never got to leave. And I don't know if ever would have, or not, but now he doesn't even get the chance and it's all just so goddamn stupid.
And me and Bizcit decided that when we die we're definitely not getting heart-shaped tombstones because those are pretty much the ultimate tacky thing. Bizcit says if I die she'll have me cremated and put me in a jar and sleep with me on the pillow next to her every night. And I told her to take part of me and put it in a baggy or something she can stuff in her bra with her money and whenever she has to pay for anything she'll have to dust the bills off.
I don't know what she'd do if I died, I pay for everything. I pay for our food and for the flowers and for the movies we rented later. Bizcit did pay for her own ice cream today, and she bought me a cool MSI shirt, so it's not like I'm complaining. I usually don't mind paying.
We rented A Clockwork Orange and Collateral, and I pretty much love A Clockwork Orange, only we didn't get to finish it cos I had to start home at 11:00.
Is it really wrong to feel so bad for Alex? I think he's like the coolest character ever. We'd be good friends.
I can't write anymore, I don't think, for the past few nights I've been churning out stuff like crazy but last night I could barely write anything and what I did write was crap.
And it's like every morning now I wake up shaking with anxiety about you-know-what. |
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