Sound Journals

Saturday August 27th, 2008

My apartment at 9:38 p.m., the shit is popping off and i've been drunk since Thursday night.

The floor is squeaking with every movement.  I don't even have to move my feet just shift all that weight I have.  The short and stiff rug sounds like a busy hornets nest as the countless women stumble their way over to me.  I'm sitting on the cheap IKEA chair, directly across from the window that is already fogged up.  As I open the window I can hear the sound of the rain drying on the pavement.  Tyler is in the back talking non-sense to some latin girl that is out of his league.  Jake is having sex with a girl he just met from ECU.  Not kidding and she wears too much make-up.  If I listen close enough I can hear her skin scolding her for allowing a pound of baloney to be laid across her face.  The sheets make a soft shifting noise because Jake is gentle.  I taught him that.  The t.v. is on but I'm doing my best to drown it out.  The Bucket List is on and I don't feel like crying right now.  Maybe I should add the soft whimpering on my allergies that have bothered for the past week.  Savannah bursts out laughing after spilling her beer all over the table.  This I can't drown out and can't understand why she feels this funny.  Neil Young's voice softly pours out from the crack beneath my door.  The sound of footsteps transferring from the hardwood to the rough carpet makes the sound of idiot's thinking.  My neighbor keeps bending her old sunglasses that she got from Wal-Mart but is ready to pawn off that they are designer.  She must be nervous because the squeaking of the breaking plastic gets louder the more my roommate Ryan hits on her.  The only sound I can focus on repeatedly is the sound of my breath exhaling out of my lungs as I swallow the cheap vodka from the beer pong cup I decided to rinse out.  Fuck it, the number one way to get herpes is sharing beer pong cups but this is college, I only have a few more years left might as well take something with me.

TS