#i ran out of lip balm today and i am going FERAL

[rubys-domain]

you know the solution to depression: more genshin

[cantstopthesignal2005]

Spinning

           “The guy was supposed to be here already,” Tess complained to her roommate, Annie, whose jaw had been grinding for the past half hour.    “Hey, Tess?” she replied, eyes low, affecting a vindictive scowl. “That’s about the third time you sang that song this hour. Let’s give it a rest, huh?” Annie felt a pride in keeping her agitation to herself in waiting for their guy, who, she icily reminded Tess, was named Jason. She was self-satisfied in being able to internalize her frustrations, something Tess was unsuccessful in doing. Tess clicked her teeth a few times, the resulting noise crawling beneath Annie’s skin, her blood simmering with a rage for Tess’s inane tics and neuroses.    “What do we want to do?” Tess finally asked.    “We call Jason,” Annie replied, rolling her eyes. Annie surmised that nine times out of ten, she would be the one in their relationship called upon to solve an issue they faced. Their dynamic had never been even, something Annie knew and accepted from it’s genesis. She had been advised by her mother to practice patience and lower expectations of others, that people would only repeatedly disappoint her otherwise. She knew from an early age that not everyone would be as poised, mature, and intelligent as she was. This was the burden she had to bear in life: to remain gracious in the face of ignorance and deficiency. Today, she was consumed with a dread that she and Tess would monstrously shred the other to pieces without the balm of cocaine or an approximate upper.    Annie scrolled through her contacts, selecting “Tutor,” the name he was assigned to practice discretion. Half-expecting a dial tone, she was surprised to hear him mumble, “Hello?” after the first two rings.    “Hey, Jason?”    “This is he.”    “It’s Annie. Annie Sutton.”    “Yeah, no, I know who it is, I have your number saved,” he said through a yawn. “What’s up?”      “I just need help with my math homework, I think we scheduled it for noon thirty, right?”    “Oh, did we have a tutoring session scheduled?”    “We did. Half past twelve. It’s one.”    “Okay. Uh, I’m still in bed.  I can be there at two the earliest. Same place?”    “Uh, yeah . . .”    “Great, I’ll see you at 2?”    “I’ll be here.” Annie slid the phone into her pocket, and looked over to an Tess, expectant as ever, her eyes hungry and desperate    “So?” Tess asked, twirling her hands, obnoxiously expectant as per usual.    “Says he’ll maybe here at two.”    “Maybe?!? Two?!?” she balked. “What the fuck, dude? No, no, call him back, we’re not waiting all day for him.”    “What else are you doing today, Tess?” she barked. “It’s an hour. You aren’t doing anything anyway.” Annie was quick to point out Tess’s lack of productivity, which would usually make Tess heel during one of their arguments, which were increasing in regularity. Annie would  bite her tongue about Tess’s vulgar privilege—she received garish amounts of money from her boyfriend—as it was relatively easy to pressure Tess into paying both halves of their rent.    “Well,” Tess venomously snarled, “I could do lots of things.”    “Like what?”    “Study films. That’s a passion of mine.  I’m thinking of getting into French New Wave . . .”    Annie snapped her fingers and gasped. “We could get ecstasy from Flacko!”    “Flacko’s a creep,” Tess shuddered.  “He tried to get me to fuck for a bag. I told him no, and he got so fucking mad. He almost didn’t let me leave.”      “That’s a no,” Annie muttered. “Denver? We used to score his ADHD meds, remember?”    “My cousin? No. Don’t even ask.”    Annie ran through the avenues they could go down to cop their salve, before sighing, “We need more options. We need to get out more. Jason’s fucking mad unreliable”  They nodded and passively flipped through channels, Tess eventually landing on a film where, in an excruciatingly tight close-up, a young man held the face of a bloodied young woman, as she gagged, sputtering scarlet from her lips. Annie was unnerved and shifted her attention to the coffee table, which had been collecting several magazines and vinyl records, the latter wearing scars from Tess’s razor blade, cocaine residue accumulating in the cardboard.    “Hey,” Tess said. “Uh, well, I was wondering . . . do you think we should think about . . . not doing this anymore? Maybe . . . maybe it’s time to stop this shit.”    “It’s not bad,” Annie replied, shrugging her shoulders. “You know, it’s just . . . well, for me, it’s just a study aide.”    “Annie, we’re spinning right now. We’d do a line every now and then. Then, we’d do it every other week.  Now, we’re lucky if a gram can get us through a day. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t feeding my nose. I mean, you know . . . it’s just . . . we could do less of it.”    “I don’t thnk . . . Tess . . . no, no, you’re right.” The theory that their habit had swelled inordinately would cross both of their minds in times of fleeting lucidity, though it had never been given a mouth. Rather than confront their steady motion towards self-destruction, they would bottle their spiraling aggression, spending hours awake in bed trying to will their hearts to beat slower, stumbling upon juvenile, half-profound epiphanies. The rambling discussions where many words were employed but nothing was said.  What once was so helpful in propelling them toward great heights of productivity and alertness had expended all usefulness, fracturing their spirit and motivation. The music Annie produced on her laptop had, of late, declined in quality, only collages of discordant music that collided into an unpleasant mess.    “Okay, well,” Tess began, licking her lips, “I have to say . . . I must say, I think we’re doing the right thing in admitting this to ourselves and to each other. Like, we’re on the precipice of developing a problem. It’s not getting to that point, but it is something we should address before it has a chance to worsen.”   “Right,” Annie agreed, rather frantically. “Okay, so what do we want to do? What should we do? To prevent it becoming an issue?”   “What we should do is, we should call Jason. We should call Jason and tell him not to come.” Annie shook her head. “We shouldn’t? Why not?”    “If we quit cold turkey like that . . . I heard that it would be worse. You know? We should have . . . we should have a gradual decline.”  Annie picked up a memo pad she kept on the wooden end table nestled next to the couch, jotting down their planned intake. Tess paced the apartment, finding that it lubricated her mind, snapping to fire up her synapses. They concluded that nine-tenths of a gram should suffice as the initial weening period; once a week had passed with the new dose, they would convene and discuss moving forward.   “And we’d have more money to do shit,” Tess realized aloud. “It’s a fucking money suck, Annie. It’s so fucking bad. We could have gotten like, new shoes or at least . . . at least try to improve our quality of life. They say it makes you paranoid and that it, you know, destroys you. And they’re right. That’s what it is, it’s just . . . it’s just a destructive powder.”     “You could go do that film program, right? You could, if you wanted to. You could make great content.  I really think you could. You’re so fucking creative. Like Wes Anderson? You could totally be the next Wes Anderson.”   “Yeah. Thanks so much for saying that.  I’ll totally do it. Can you push me if you see I’m making excuses? Cause I—I do that. I get complacent.  I fall out of routines, I’m so bad at it. But if someone keeps me focused, I can really get it done. I just need someone to help me take it to the finish line, I’m terrible with follow through.”    “Yeah, sure. I’ll push you.” There was a pregnant pause between the two before Tess turned the television back on. Tess and Annie passively watched a documentary on feral cats, Annie peering over to her phone to check her messages. Tess became uncertain of Annie’s commitment to quitting, though she kept this to herself. Annie tapped her fingers against her legs, anxious in wait of Jason’s arrival. Aware her antsy behavior was likely annoying Tess, she excused herself to take a shower, where she felt the crash of it all. Her body became sluggish, dark thoughts began to arise as the water hit her skin. This was her life. These were her habits, this was her social circle, this was her spartan existence. She wondered aloud how she arrived here and what choices she could have made to avoid having to careen down this path.     As she left the room her boyfriend’s gray university shirt and plaid boxers, a towel wrapped around her head, she saw Jason unloading his backpack of wares onto the table, Tess hungrily scanning the items.   “You’re late,” Annie said, rolling her eyes. “This can’t happen again, or we aren’t copping from you in the future.”   “Yeah, okay?” he said, scoffing dismissively. “Sorry to offend, Ms. Lady.”   “Tess, why are we letting him sell in our living room?”   “You’re not making the deal in the hallway, Annie,” he told her, scowling with resentment.  “Let’s get it moving, time is money.”   “Oh, you must fucking hate money,” Tess snapped, crossing her arms. “Given how fucking late you are. How you’re just acting an ass with your customers?”   “What’s the deal? What am I here to give ya’ll?”   “Four grams,” Annie said, with an assured finality. “Four grams. Tess has the scale, we’re gonna pay you for it, and honestly, don’t ever fucking come back here again.”   “Wowwwwww!” Jason feigned offense, though outside opinion had never bothered him. Tess carefully carried out the deal, only handing Jason the bill after rubbing a bit of coke against her teeth, feeling the familiar, tingling sensation that she knew so well. Jason packed up his goods and departed, muttering “Fiends” ostensibly under his breath, though he made certain that his slight was heard. They divvied up the bags and cut them into lines, their moods lifted from a hellish despondency into an affable cheerfulness. Their energy morphed from a muted contention to an ebullience that felt oddly foreign. They began to join one another in jotting down goals, setting forth plans to achieve them, wholly engaging for the first time in over a week.   “. . . and I can get involved with the coffee shop, you know? You know the one I’m talking about? Allison’s place? And I can do some work there, meet some people there. Network. That’s a dirty word, it feels like, but I think it’s important.” She paused, her eyes departing. “Fuck! Is it me, or is this shit really potent?”   “It’s pretty good,” Annie assured her.   “Do you think it’s because we’re quitting that it feels so fucking good? Like, because we soon enough won’t be able to do it?”   “I’m sure that has something to do with it,” Annie muttered, shrugging.   “So, you’re feeling this? What I’m feeling? You’re riding on this wave?”   “I think so.”   “I’m so happy to have you in my life.”   “Me too. You know, when I’m talking rough to you, it’s only because I want to make sure you reach your potential. Do everything you want to do, everything you’re capable of.”   “No, totally! What? You don’t ever have to apologize! Not to me. You’re like my sister, you’re family to me, you’re in my coven.  I want you . . . I NEED you to push me. Cause I won’t push myself. I’m not . . . not self-motivated, I’m not disciplined. And you really are! You are, and I love that about you. That you’re indefatigable. You’ve got this tick-tick-tick-ticking engine inside you. It’s so fucking impressive.”  The doorbell rang and Annie whipped her head to the door, slowly approaching as Tess felt a shiver travel down her spine, her hearts tempo ramping up.  Annie saw an image of her little brother warped from the glass of the peephole.   “Tess, it’s just Neil!” she yelled. Tess sighed and reclined as Annie opened the door. Neil’s tall, lanky frame slowly ambled towards Tess, offering her a handshake, his smile twisted and off-putting.      “What’s going on, baby brother?” Annie asked.    “Not much. Just grabbing my shit from when I crashed.” Annie forgot entirely that they had a fractious spat which led to her little brother getting booted from the apartment.    “How are you, Neil?” Tess asked, sotto voce.    “Uh, good? You?”    “Well, I won’t lie to you. You know, I’m under the influence of something right now. But I’m very authentic as a result, I’m open. It tears off walls of communication and empathy that I usually have.”    “What the fuck?” Neil asked, looking away.  “Annie, where’s my shit?”    “Don’t tell dad,” Annie warned. “I know you like to fucking tattle.”    “I don’t talk to dad,” he coolly informed her.  “I’m staying with Alejandro, since you guys decided you didn’t want me here anymore.”    “You should have seen him when he was young, Tess.”    “I did know him when he was younger,” Tess reminded her.    “Like YOUNG young. He would keep telling on me and my friends cause we didn’t let him hang out . . .” Neil spotted the bag he purchased from the library, stuffed with his copious stack of movies and books. He silently walked away and slammed the door to emphasize his exit. Annie looked over to Tess, whose gaze was captured by the pattern of arrows and angles woven into their carpet. “We should put on some music. What’s a good song?”   “What are we in the mood for?”   “Soft. Soothing. Nothing aggressive.” Annie anxiously thrummed her fingers against the coffee table, before gasping, “Don’t Worry Baby. It’s by The Beach Boys.”   “By whom?”   “The Beach Boys. The song is called . . . Don’t Worry Baby.”   “Okay, we’ll play that now.”  “Maybe . . .” Annie began, hesitation punctuating her words. “Maybe we shouldn’t play it.”   “No, no, no! No, no! No. You know, we chose your song, that’s the song that should be played.” As the song played, they felt their eggshell fragile minds being jarred, oscillating between extreme happiness and melancholy. Emotions erratically came and left, leaving them overwhelmed. With a need to numb themselves entirely, they mindlessly reached into their pockets and emptied the bags onto the coffee table, silently breaking their pact. The coke drip burned the back of their throats, giving way to a familiar, loving high. Tomorrow would grant them the moment of clarity necessary to kick, the drive  to stick with it. Tomorrow, they pledged.