two cuties

summer 2008 until forever

ERNIE: Your voice is getting better and better. Nuanced and cool. Cracking in the same place. I put it through pedals, I’m more into it than you. Hobbying fuck-up that I am. A teacher once told me that’s what I was, on the quiet, because I wouldn’t do UCAS. I liked him for that. 

We’re banging now which I never thought would happen. Genuinely. We sort of just arranged it, over multiple conversations, it was so proper. I remember you said “I just need something to pass the time, truly.” I get that truth. I guess you’re another thot to me now, ahahahahahahahahaha. There has been a few I can’t lie. Bad word, you hate that word, boo, you like to scold. I can hear you brrrrrrrrrr with your mouth in my mind: that’s a threat. Too right. Nah I’m the thot. I’m the fuckboy. I’m the sack of patatarrrs idhaf2g. Ah! You think it’s bad that I can’t find the fucks to give, but I can’t find them. Why should I find them when they are not found for us? Sloppy logic. Well I’m running out of smiles if I’m going to be seeing you. Don’t laugh, am, I’m running out of jobs I don’t think you realise that. Your brain’s a certain paradise. I find it easy to talk in those terms. 

When I nut. Red lilies, your favourite flower, you take me to what’s real. The suck turns the cheeks and dimples to rivets. In times when I come unstuck. This face of running water – that sounds like you’re crying (never in front of me, though we’ve known each other for years). I mean your expression comes from the forehead down: logical condescension. I’m usually with boys. Is it wrong to say they’re less drama? Not that you are though. Besides, if the only way you pity me is with your mouth then I’m happy to be relieved, alleviated. Excalibur to my indolence. 

Sometimes I would like the pity more than a thrown bone, would you believe, but you’re trying your best. I am so grateful to have a type of torpidity you can bounce around, the subject and audience of your whip-smart salutations that puncture any afternoon. I wish you could do this with others. You’ve been on so many courses. You think it’s getting better. It’s actually going to get worse. If you haven’t read it you must’ve felt it. Tell me. I want you to cope with it; flip some days you are dry as a fucking desert boring me to death with the mediocre oh you got to this point, oh someone saw you over there, so I am pleased when we are alone to just put my tongue anywhere reciprocate to stall the mess. You worry when you should be free. You’re hot, don’t you forget! Lest we forget. 

PRU: Lest we forget. I wonder what history will make of us. We that had it quite hard/not so hard. Not at war (not here). At one end our spirits are eroded. We are undecided. We are always on a trip. I have been on so many courses. But an apprenticeship is a job. Well, it gets you to a job. Or it should do. &Yeah it’s cool for you, though it isn’t me; you go here and there, you live off the last thing you do (did) you swipe in tail end, make some friends, roll in the dirt, see it all as bread. I just want a house. I’m sorry I can’t talk about it for that long I find it all really emotional, I’m sallow about it all. I’m sallow and meagre and small about it all, but I want that house, I do. You tell me I just want what I am told to want. By the same logic you, you are just a reactionary. Can it be said like that? I dunno why I’m asking you. 

Of course I am also angry and short-sighted. Alight. All capitals. Time-stamped. You know how annoying you are, I tell you every day. But I had to take a pop at that prick the way he was talking, the way he was talking about you. He can’t. But it’s easy for me to keep my head down now because we spent all our money that evening. I need for him to have – hopefully he laughed it off, he only got a bit of blood, I haven’t heard anything from it. Gina, Cable and Este, they’re getting on OK. I need to catch up. If I am to be honest, I always feel like I’m trying to catch up. That is how we advertise ourselves, that others are deficient. That is how we get a job. Cosmo magazine taught me that; to hum on a dick is pleasurable. You are my friend so I can finally try it, without embarrassment. Safe to say it was a hum-dinger, except I brrred because I was feeling cold. But not towards you. 

You send me stuff about holidays, in your pigshit dyslexic texts uh uh uh hyuh we could go leave together. You just want to stand in front of a fucking pagoda. That’s the only reason you’re talking about Asia. It’s true! It’s really thirsty. Calling me crab claws for saying things like that. You’re still here aren’t you? And they still snap. And really, please, you know I don’t touch meat I’m not a fucking dirtbag. At least I can grab your legs at the back whether I fancy you or not (really I do fancy your face, I fancy our humour, my best of best friends, I will defend you to the end). Skinny, ridiculous, Sauerkraut. Ah! 

[They both laugh throughout the interview; patting and pinching each other’s faces.]