Thursday, 18 December 2014

Return of the Peppermint Killers

Sometimes fury takes the best of you, sometimes fury makes you do irrational things like picking up an old phone book, where numbers which should be lost in a more significant point, that it should remained cluttered at the end of some yesterday’s scribbles and notes which pile up to a month and it’s solely done because it resembles the mind, you never really forget anything, do you?
I don’t seem to.
And the phone call is useless, that I’ve lit three cigarettes and thrown them out of the window, solely because when you get a paycheck you seem to discard things easily and then live on cup noodles for the next month. And she doesn’t pick up, because the idea would seem insane drunk and sober it doesn’t even make sense, but anger seems to cool down with a curiosity and excitement which previously I would calm down with medicine, but now don’t, letting everything escalate and downfall into some uneven spiral.
And when she does pick up, it’s not even a question of alcohol.
“Meg?” I drop the fourth cigarette, surprised she even picked up and all I hear is silence and her attention. If Archie was downstairs he would chew it. And I don’t know if she would even pick up and her silence seems to be far more taunting and threatening than I’ve ever seen before or even a lone Wob’s breath after a very long friday night as if it were something worse than Bobby Gillespie’s Glasgow and I wonder how the fuck would I even manage the courage to speak out and I even wish that Archie were somewhere to take our all my cigarettes as if all the sobering in the world could do something tonight but then it’s somewhere stuck between midday and nothing and I wonder how long would her silence even stretch.
"Hey, it’s me, Jamie", I say to Meg and I wonder how long even passes before I can even hear her blink and I think I hear the telly in the back but instead she speaks and I can always imagine her in something stylish, her hair just as long and silky and the childish adoration just pouring out of her, begging a hug which I would always give her and I wonder if I would ever manage to again in a friendly manner.
"I heard that you and Alison broke up" is what she says and usually when people say that they tend to mean that we broke up as a couple rather than as a band and I just sigh, nodding, exhaling and she just makes a weird noise and now I am the one who is the keeper of long and prolonged silence.
Maybe I should’ve done something else and instead Meg keeps talking.
"I don’t like Jack’s solo, it’s too vulgar, I never liked rap" is what comes from the White Stripes drummer’s mouth and I couldn’t agree more and I just try and see if she would be able to state something else to follow up this discussion and instead of anything she just keep following her own peppermint Meg trail of thought which had always been adored and loved by many.
So what would you be doing then is the key holder of my silence and I know that my shaking head isn’t vocal enough so instead I speak up.
"Would you ever be interested in drumming again, we don’t have to do gigs, I think it even killed it off for me, I was never a big fan of the stage ever since…" I hold a pause, Alison’s hurling and whatever the fuck on stage, it just stops becoming about the music, the mystery and the atmosphere.
“I was going to call you…” Meg keeps talking. “But I never really had your phone and I wasn’t sure where you lived, since I only had Gipsy Hill-”
“I am in Gipsy Hill, actually.” I bite my nail harshly. “Everything fell through.”
She gasps lightly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jamie.” And I hear my own and concise finale of a long sexual joke trip with Alison, which she had given up on, tearing the picture in two with her teeth, ruining the reflection I had wanted us to be. Echoes of sadness and something eternal seem to keep tearing me apart, pulling me lower and lower as if I could drown on air and see bubbles of water emerge in a shallow hallucination. Maybe it’s not such a sad day after all, I go through Archie’s fur, as he looks at me knowing at the long discussion we’ll have. 


I think this is one of those stories where I was just laughing my ass off. This is the third and final secret Nano novel xD I[ve never had so many notes for a novel ever written xD 

I'm letting it see the light of day today because


I'm actually really really speechless, because he's pretty much been with me through many many years, being an inspiration, because he means an awful lot to me. So if you follow me on tumblr, I'll have the whole day dedicated to him, so I'll be posting random Jamie-related things and mumblings

I just honestly adore him for everything he does and he's the most talented human being to ever grace this earth. He's amazing and I honestly hopes he has an amazing birthday today :D 

He's one of those people who deeply inspire me every day and make me get out of bed. 

I'm thankful for everything, so of course I'm at a loss for words. 

All the best.

I chose this story because frankly I wanted something different for his birthday and well, something not too shipping as well, which is odd, but I'll keep my mouth shut on this one.

Perhaps it's not the cheeriest but yeah:)

Anyway, it was written as I got the idea, me and Callie were discussing Kills and where the fuck were they headed, if it was going to be a break eventually, and then I went what what if Jamie and Meg did something then I did this beautiful font and etc for the title and I'll edit it later, not now xD 

Also a big chunk was written me trying to do the 5 headed hydra for Nano (500 words in 5 minutes, I failed and got a big chunk full of typos xD)

I hope you enjoyed it and let's all drink, celebrate and get drunk to Jamie's birthday.

I'm off to a good start, I'm going to sleep at 7 am XD

Tell me if you liked it :3



No comments:

Post a Comment