just..

[thirty-three]

Fortunately, it was a missed goal. She was young, not young enough to be naive but not old enough to really know anything yet either. There was a sense of purpose amongst the blonde hair, the blonde hair that reached the lower middle back and the belly button exposed by a couple-inches-too-short shirt. This girl was too young to remember the Great War, but old enough to remember the second. This girl knew nothing about pride.

Pride, definition unknown in the sixties but one of freedom and unified justice, took on a new light in light of the green light of the government. The girl had seen her past boyfriends strip down and up in green, and march their way into the homes and out of the homes of their fathers, and their enemies, and their neighbourly doctor doing the deed for humanity. Fixing up bruises bones and blessings of those that have ran and lost, gave and lost, attempted, and lost.

This girl had been a lover. After the second war there wasn't much of anything but love, love and good manners and that was all she could account for. If there was anything to be said it would be that a girl about twenty was about to come across the real meaning of pride, pride and good-riddence to that of good faith. She was hit in a place where only the lovers knew, and it didn't require a condom.

Or anything else for that matter, this whole sex thing had really come over everybodsy, and it had driven the thoughts and bodies of so many people she knew, and given it was on her mind at times too, but it was impossible to think of much else when the world and the greens and the government threw you intolerance and war and hate.

We Hate Your Hate. We Hate Your Hate. We Hate Your Hate.

Over and over, no reasons reasonless loss. Loss was big then, this girl just hated losing, hated the feeling of hate and empty. The streets, the country felt empty. Sustenence and life was lost, although the sea separated the souls they were unified in the green, in the justice. the green? The red. Red Red REd.

The scare, the girl knew the scare. It was big, you needed to hate that hate, because that hate promoted more hate, and then the circle kept turning the wheels kept spinning it never ended never stopped. The green talked about trust, trust, trust when they could see it on their television, see the kids being gone, the kids falling.

Children, jesus christ. Children.

If the girl looked back she would see a life of love, but trust is somehting that the green offered and the red refused, the country was standing at yellow. Not quite sure if they should just fuck it all together and hit the bright blue. Hit the blue and fuck it altogether. Fucking let it all out. Let it all, fuck.

Just, fuck.

And so she let her boyfriends go, she let her best friends go.. They sat it was a waiting game before, now it was a watching seeing smelling feeling invigorating game. This game where lives lives at a stake? Lives at stake. There were lives at stake now. Honesty? Trust? Shoot me, LBJ, shoot me today today shoot me today.

And I felt it pulsing, the hate. We hate your hate. We hate your green your scared fucking reasons. We hate your fear. We hate hate they hate we hate you. I sat in the middle of the road, that white fucking house sitting all happy. What's with the colours? The green tells us to go green and hate the red and trust the white but never touch blue. Blue. Let us blue. Blue. I want to, fuck, fuck it all.

And so we did. We sat, we sat there infront of the house that house that white house LBJ shoot me today shoot shoot shoot me today. Children, LBJ, aren't you a father? Don't you realise that my brother and my father and my other lover boyfriend's brother other is out there for...

A thunderstorm.

Fuck.

February 3, 2011 - Jess :]