She was twenty-three, still bonded to youth, and suspicious of those with confidence, “How can anyone like themselves in this age of mirrors?” She’d choose to coyly pose at any bar’s back entrance, to move only for the sweetest of forays, that of a conga train with a man of vein wrapped ankles. She’d ask him home and in the morning he’d clear his throat and begin with that planned speech he said he’d deliver when surely sober. Something about thanks and fun and ‘gotta run’. Her morning spent binning evidence and without friends to induce a whimper.
[Amazon have the Sound of the Smiths on sale for £4.49; so that’s less than 10p per song (45 tracks available, too, as it’s the deluxe edition) – including the song above.]
I am definitely getting that. 🙂 Well written and depressing. Like The Smiths, I guess.
Have you guys been looking at my last.fm and just choosing my favourite bands, or WHAT? Haha, but seriously, The Smiths are great. The Queen is Dead is one of the best albums of all time. I haven’t gotten around to listening to any of their compilations yet, but I do have Louder Than Bombs and will listen to it shortly. Nice one.
I got that tatted on my thigh. I was 13. I’m not stoked about it anymore, but I can’t wash it off :/
The Smith’s was fun while it lasted…and you wrote this in June, so that means you probably still hear The Smiths.
But what I can’t stand about that is when people ask me what it means…boring, or when I recall that the way I feel now is the way I felt then, I think that just means I’m bitter – oh well.