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It's the last few moments of Winter.
She'll do anything to get a new beginning. She has her fucking alarm set to 10:46amET to capture it all.
Everyone is fucked up and wanting love.
Some more than others. She woke to a text from the only person she knew in this town telling her that he had some good news that one of the women he salivated over couldn't resist also bringing a distracting plus-one-up-manship so that she could be the same. She had some gall to judge someone as pathetic. She had been invited to a party. wheee. gratitude should ensue, and it did mostly.
Why was Narcissi even going? to this engagement party.
It was because otherwise, she had nothing.
The love didn't seem that epic. The party seemed like it would have tons of alcohol. She always preferred weed of course, but as millions of others did, alcohol would suffice.
Because she had seen it in "Le Feu Follet", she had been reading "Babylon Revisited" - really reading it instead of checking it out then turning it back in. Perhaps it was easier reading short stories, and by golly did ole F.Scott have her number. She had been surprised that he wrote sober, but it tracked. She had been trying to get drunk and write, but it definitely was no weed - which fueled her juices.
and that anticipated party...
And she didn't know why it rankled her - what the fuck did she care getting in between some petty rivalry? she thought it was because it cheapened autonomy? she had only just learned what autonomy even was while she was trying to get over the man who broke the fuck out of her broken heart.
She reached down to pet the tan cat she didn't want. It was purring so loudly and eventually jumps up to be closer to her. Narcissi was the kind of person who couldn't stand weak people, but she was so fucking weak. It was something she was fine admitting: being a hypocrite.
She wanted to feel beautiful and forget her neurosis for a tiny bit, but she imagined she would feel self conscious around any entity. It was her thing.
This morning, perusing her beloved reddit, she had seen another over-fifty dater make a post about giving up the online dating apps and just fucking it. She definitely understood. She herself was giving up all the trying, but it made her wonder - HAD Leon found someone else and was in the process of dumping her - or was she irrationally suspicious because she wanted at least that to happen as opposed to "nope, no one else, just would rather masturbate and watch tv than hang out with you anymore."
Yet, he had had a total right to not like her.
It just made her sad. What didn't make her sad or angry? pretty much everything triggered her. It was so bloody boring to figure it all out by yourself, or was it more terrifying - or was it just middle.
Who cared.
Who really cared? She had read a quote in the gram about carl Jung apparently saying that loneliness wasn't the absence of humans around you - it was the inability to say what was on her mind and having someone hear you.
a fucking men.
She had cut the grass to have something to do. She didn't really put her heart in it, but she was wearing the black swing skirt - the one she had worn on the trail of tears from the wilmington miasma - and her cowboy boots. She was also wearing the Clearwater t-shirt he had bought in the euphoria of getting a bunch of money from the mother he scorned but re-enacted with every fucking...
she could barely crack a smile anymore unless it was to
recognize the ridiculousness of it all.
The tan cat kept purring.
she was done now.
time to wait for Spring.
"Hurry On Up!"
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