Bone Machine: Part 2

Where Is My Mind - Pixies

You wake up the morning after. The pounding, blinding, screaming soaring headache pounding against your eyelids is enough to stop you from getting to the toilet, and if that wasn't problem enough, you currently have your legs and arms and body intwined.
With a girl.
And so the memories come flooding back - last night, the laughter, the forest green, the Smashing Pumpkins and god, did you take like 100 shots? So you pull yourself away from this girl, this sleeping carcass, green loving, half-Mexican hellcat, and stumble to the bathroom.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize you are naked.
You look long enough in the mirror to realize what you did last night.
This takes place in a total of .85 seconds, you applaud yourself for a job well done.
Opening the cabinet, you grab the little red capsules, pour four out into your hand and down them without water.
Why not just walk back and take a second peak?
Even when you aren't wasted, you can tell she's gorgeous. Beautiful. The way the sunlight casts against her bare figure as she's covered in your Power Ranger sheets is enough to send you back into bed with her, to sleep for a few more hours, to wake up and make her breakfast.
Instead, you grab a piece of paper and a Mariott Hotel pen, the one you stole because you can, and write down an excuse for you being gone for a few hours.
You place it on your nightstand, you place your socks on your feet, your jeans over your jegs, your shirt over you torso.
You place your mind over your heart, and you leave.
Let's see how long you can stay away until she leaves.

This is the endless cycle.

Bone Machine: Part 1.

Music: Where Is My Mind? - Pixies


You know you've had one drink too many when you wonder what it would be like to try and fly off the cliff right behind your house, fly and go to Canada, fly and go to Aruba.
So you take another shot.
You're giggling and laughing and muttering and you can't feel it, but there is drool dribbling out of your mouth and on to your empty coaster.
You haven't put down your drink in 3 hours except to get another.
And you knock the 20-something girl next to you, you knock her drink out of your hand and you lean over and pick up the shards of glass. Every single piece pricks you but you keep on going because cleaning it up is what you have to do get everything better. The pain is worth it.
You look up, study her. She's 4'10 or '11, maybe, dark brown hair. She's tiny everywhere and you can see it. She's got this, something in her eye - you can't put your finger on it. The way she looks at you almost gets you half sober for a second.
So you take another shot.
You start to talk to her, and you figure out her favorite color is green, but not forest green and definitely not lime green. Her favorite band is a three way tie between Iggy and The Stooges, Radiohead and Smashing Pumpkins. She's half Mexican.
So soon you're asking her back to your apartment, and you don't quite know if you remember where it is.
But she says yes, and you realize you've never even been with a girl before.
You stand up, grab her hand. Every inch of you is on fire. Your skin crawls and you can feel it when your heart starts to pound.
So you take another shot.