sábado, 25 de agosto de 2012

Runaway pt.3


Of course I was not suicidal. But my propensity to accidents had reached major levels and, I was honestly tired of the task of keeping myself alive.  I didn´t want to die; not at a conscious level, anyway. It´s more an organic thing, you know?  You have been feeling worthless for so long that even body cells end up believing you´re a waste of space and oxygen.

-Is this legal?   
-I don´t know. How old are you?
- Sixteen and half. And you?
- I turned nineteen last week. 

And we both had our cells soaked in beer. Kisses, outdoor lounging in the cold rain and stale pizza tasted so much better with it. For the first time I felt like I was playing together with a guy, instead of acquiring (or becoming) a new toy. There is a mysterious bond in sharing a bottle, secret but certain, so much that I could feel I understood exactly each word he said, the power of his hands, his heartbeat.

3 comentarios:

  1. I can't believe you got in a row with a 16 year old!! At 19 you should've known better, you know??? =D

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  2. Oh, it was the ninetys! Who would have known?? What were you doing at sixteen, anyway?
    http://miranto.blogspot.mx/2012/05/take-it-on-run.html

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  3. Ohhh that was low!! Hahaha! =D

    Well at least in my story I was the 16-year-old being abused LOL!

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