Friday, October 9

To know ones soul based on nail polish and drinks.

You said I must eat so many lemons,'cause I am so bitter
I said "I'd rather be with your friends mate,
'cause they are much fitter"
- Kate Nash

Amanda always said she could tell my mood from the colour of my nails when we were fourteen and thought we were women. I always had red nails when I wanted to be choked by a man while piercing his skin with them and light pink when I wanted to have mai tais and feel sorry for myself. But now she says she have to take a sip of whatevers in my glas before she can tell. Apparently gin is a safe sign that I just bought new shoes and want nothing els than to sit alone in my library while wearing them and smoke. And wine.. well when I drink wine she assumes I need company; on the contrary to champagne which I only drink when I don't feel like talking (or if I happen to be at the opera).

And for the last cuple of days when I've been silent and absent, my nails have been dark purple and I've been pouring my mothers champagne bottles down my soar troath and thinking. David Bowies Heroes is on repeat. Can we really be heroes? Just for one day? Or are we all fucked up and miserable?

4 comments:

Avy said...

That song always makes me think of Elliott. You know, "Though nothing will drive them away we can beat them
just for one day", and "Do what I say and I'll make you okey and drive them away the images stuck in your head". I love that theme. I have no one to drive them away.

Belle Armed said...

I know, I think of her as well when listening to it.I have no one to drive them away either.

Signe said...

mmmmm lemons.

Audrey said...

Chérie, live's not that interesting that we want to talk all day long. Good to have people around that knows that. What's more irritating than people you actually have to walk over and tell to shut up? Strangers don't read strangers anymore, they just go on all wrapped up with themselves.. Like in the Sant-Germain Lounge last sunday, stalky old man begs for a drink in the face, but do I care that much, to actually raise mine for him? Golden bubbly or righttempered bloody red, it's just for me baby, not for me and one drooling childish man who wants me to satisfy by talk. Oh, guess I just understood why silent movies are the best ones..