In Your Head
By RD
Things like that, things like aliens taking over your fucking school, you don't walk away from them fine. Things don't seem right anymore, in your head. You're always nervous when you walk around a corner, because of Just- In-Case and Maybe. The others just laugh at you and say,
"Get over it!"
Because that's what it is. It's over. Only you can't seem to get that into your head.
You were famous, for a while. They took your picture everyday, and you asked them what cameras they used and what length the film was. The limelight is nice, until it starts to blind you. And then it leaves you in darkness. The cameras, they don't come anymore. The girl, your girl, your Delilah, she isn't yours anymore.
"You didn't think it was serious, did you?"
You always thought she was a bitch anyway.
At least it's not so bad as before. It's not like they're beating the shit out of you everyday now. Now that your face was on the cover of Time. They just ignore you now. Pretend like it's your fault.
"Look at that smarmy git. Just because he got famous once he thinks he's ruler of the world."
So you keep out of their way. Sit alone on a bench at lunch. Drift around the edges of the pitch. Hide in the toilets.
You see him watching you sometimes, though his face is clouded by smoke. You haven't really spoken since...all that shit. You're still the geek and he's still the cool aloof one, so obviously you can't be seen fraternising with each other. But you've seen him watching, lurking too. And suddenly, it's clear.
That he's not over it either.
So you have to turn to each other, for a little sanctuary in this world of unbelievers.
And when he's kissing you, and you're both thinking,
'Let's enjoy this now because there might not be a tomorrow.'
You suddenly realise that maybe it's okay to be a bit messed up, since that makes things different, and that's good. Because if things were the same, this moment wouldn't be his lips frantically on yours, it would be you sitting alone in your room, thinking about death.
By RD
Things like that, things like aliens taking over your fucking school, you don't walk away from them fine. Things don't seem right anymore, in your head. You're always nervous when you walk around a corner, because of Just- In-Case and Maybe. The others just laugh at you and say,
"Get over it!"
Because that's what it is. It's over. Only you can't seem to get that into your head.
You were famous, for a while. They took your picture everyday, and you asked them what cameras they used and what length the film was. The limelight is nice, until it starts to blind you. And then it leaves you in darkness. The cameras, they don't come anymore. The girl, your girl, your Delilah, she isn't yours anymore.
"You didn't think it was serious, did you?"
You always thought she was a bitch anyway.
At least it's not so bad as before. It's not like they're beating the shit out of you everyday now. Now that your face was on the cover of Time. They just ignore you now. Pretend like it's your fault.
"Look at that smarmy git. Just because he got famous once he thinks he's ruler of the world."
So you keep out of their way. Sit alone on a bench at lunch. Drift around the edges of the pitch. Hide in the toilets.
You see him watching you sometimes, though his face is clouded by smoke. You haven't really spoken since...all that shit. You're still the geek and he's still the cool aloof one, so obviously you can't be seen fraternising with each other. But you've seen him watching, lurking too. And suddenly, it's clear.
That he's not over it either.
So you have to turn to each other, for a little sanctuary in this world of unbelievers.
And when he's kissing you, and you're both thinking,
'Let's enjoy this now because there might not be a tomorrow.'
You suddenly realise that maybe it's okay to be a bit messed up, since that makes things different, and that's good. Because if things were the same, this moment wouldn't be his lips frantically on yours, it would be you sitting alone in your room, thinking about death.
