Creative Non-Fiction

[eriatarka]

I watch the man out the window of the bus, sitting at a stop, with only a walking stick and a half-full bottle of Wessen cooking oil for companionship, stare at the ground. In those few seconds that I am stopped in front of him, the ridiculousness of it does not sink in.

[Sitting on the bus is like being a part of moving people museum. Deposit your change, walk by all the exhibits, look (don't stare), then take your place among the pieces. Exhibits watch for potential seat mates/awkward glances through the glass.]

My left ankle leaks crimson carelessness, and my fishnets attempt to meld with it. It has bled for two days, and I could not care less. Distraction and apathy breed on me like a bacteria, turning into my second skin, becoming increasingly difficult to scratch away.

[Blemishes, hair removal, body modification, self-indulgence in the form of exponentially changing appearance. Scratch it all away.]

The humming and vibrating of public transportation puts me into a half-sleep, and my distraction becomes you again. Our conversations are idle, a blip on my life meter that I want to pause for a few moments longer.

[Hi Sam.
How's it going Sam?
Talk to you later Sam.]

I savor the way you look at me with your beautiful bloodshot-brown eyes, how you ask me how I am doing and whether or not I am reaching for pepper spray.

[School-girl crush.]

Take me back to that night. The night I was slightly buzzed and you came in with your jealousy-inducing girlfriend. Temporary companionship was thrown in my face, she drunkenly threw herself onto me, and I turned her down at the fear of drama and the site of you. I glanced at you, and watched you turn to me when I danced, and wish now that I had flirted with my hips a little more. A-typical. You aren't even my "type."

[Hannibal]

You could flirt at ME with your hips any day you want to, I just thought you might like to know that.
But.... this made me think "merry-go-round"! [img]smile.gif[/img]
yay..
erm... i dunno if you knew that, nor cared to know that, but i felt that way.
I liked the little peices in brackets, but, what were they? like.. narration about your thoughts? or.... ??

[eriatarka]

"narration about your thoughts?"

Bingo.

[Hannibal]

Rock on...
You and Machinery both seem to have a pretty good grasp of how to work that into there.
I however, seem to fail miserably when i try
i'm miserable at it!
WOOT WOOT!