When I last travelled to the Capital I forgot to bring my mp3 player. In a vain attempt to amuse myself on the ride back home I bought a notebook and a pen at PocketShop. On 'demand' I now publish the one thing written in English on that ride...
Vanity
“It turns out I can’t get under your skin”, he said as he rose from on his elbows from the bed and stroked his beard.
“How come?”, she said.
“There are guards at the gates of your innermost feelings he said. There’s fear and vanity and guilt. And they are strong and armoured and I am only armed with love, and love has nothing on them.”
“That’s true she said as she scratched the polish of her nails. I am afraid and I am guilty and vain- and love has nothing on that. Nothing on the cold sweat and my own scorning gaze in the mirror in the morning.”
He put his pants back on and the vanity of her eyes followed the strip of hair from his belly and down below….
“You should get rid of that”, she said as she licked her lips.
“No”, he replied.
“You should get rid of that smirk it makes you ugly. And I know you don’t want to be that. Not at all. In fact that’s the thing”, he said. “You are so desperate to be beautiful. So afraid of being seen as something less than that. That is what makes you vain, and what makes you vain also makes you guilty. You feel guilty ‘cause vain people are horrible people and more important vain people are ugly people.”
The last bit came like a roar through his lips and as they parted she could see a streak of yellow brownish goo on his teeth.
“You should really brush that away she said.”
“No! this is what I am talking about- you’re so vain you think this song is about you. And you really do! It makes you ugly, ugly, ugly!”
She had her back to him now. Slowly stroking away locks of golden hair as she hissed.
“I don’t care if I am vain. If it makes me afraid, guilty or ugly. At least it gives me the opportunity to be all these kinds of things. I decide for myself if I want to be vain and I am as vain as I decide. But you…”
She lifted his baffled face up with her slovenly painted nail.
“You haven’t even made a choice to be as dirty, filthy and raunchy as you are. You are just plain lazy – and you love me. And it makes me pity you. But not at all in a bad way as one would assume. When I think about it, it is not pity, but love and slight admiration. I assume it’s a freedom to be so ignorant she said. To really, really don’t care it must be so….”
She leaned in close. He didn’t smell of dirt but of cinnamon vanilla and heat as she kissed him. When his tongue touched her teeth she made vain attempts to rub his saliva off.
Vanity
“It turns out I can’t get under your skin”, he said as he rose from on his elbows from the bed and stroked his beard.
“How come?”, she said.
“There are guards at the gates of your innermost feelings he said. There’s fear and vanity and guilt. And they are strong and armoured and I am only armed with love, and love has nothing on them.”
“That’s true she said as she scratched the polish of her nails. I am afraid and I am guilty and vain- and love has nothing on that. Nothing on the cold sweat and my own scorning gaze in the mirror in the morning.”
He put his pants back on and the vanity of her eyes followed the strip of hair from his belly and down below….
“You should get rid of that”, she said as she licked her lips.
“No”, he replied.
“You should get rid of that smirk it makes you ugly. And I know you don’t want to be that. Not at all. In fact that’s the thing”, he said. “You are so desperate to be beautiful. So afraid of being seen as something less than that. That is what makes you vain, and what makes you vain also makes you guilty. You feel guilty ‘cause vain people are horrible people and more important vain people are ugly people.”
The last bit came like a roar through his lips and as they parted she could see a streak of yellow brownish goo on his teeth.
“You should really brush that away she said.”
“No! this is what I am talking about- you’re so vain you think this song is about you. And you really do! It makes you ugly, ugly, ugly!”
She had her back to him now. Slowly stroking away locks of golden hair as she hissed.
“I don’t care if I am vain. If it makes me afraid, guilty or ugly. At least it gives me the opportunity to be all these kinds of things. I decide for myself if I want to be vain and I am as vain as I decide. But you…”
She lifted his baffled face up with her slovenly painted nail.
“You haven’t even made a choice to be as dirty, filthy and raunchy as you are. You are just plain lazy – and you love me. And it makes me pity you. But not at all in a bad way as one would assume. When I think about it, it is not pity, but love and slight admiration. I assume it’s a freedom to be so ignorant she said. To really, really don’t care it must be so….”
She leaned in close. He didn’t smell of dirt but of cinnamon vanilla and heat as she kissed him. When his tongue touched her teeth she made vain attempts to rub his saliva off.
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