::crayons.that's the first taste that tickles my taste buds, that's it. crayons. i feel that awful taste right before i cry. i really don't know why. surpressed childhood memory? i have no clue. i know back in first or second grade there was a kid with no hands, who would use his mouth to write and color. i thought it was cool. i did it for about a week, then gave up when my mom would question my multi-colored teeth::

***

::'are you awake?'
shit, i'm daydreaming again - not normal daydreaming. fucking strange daydreaming. my senses of what is going on around me at that present time are fine. in fact, they're much keener than normal. i just can't respond. strange. no matter what is going on , i can't move. i'm locked in a dream. pushing the pause button on my life.
'fuck, bill are you dead?!'
that was olivia. she hates when i get like this. she tries her hardest to knock me out of this state. it rarely works. right now we are in a bar, some real lame ass one olivia dragged me to. thats where my body is. my head is some where else. a better place. a much better place. a large room filled with dark haired women, wearing nothing but underwear. i've always had a thing for dark brown, almost black hair. most of the women look the same. pale skin, pink panties and bras. all of them want me. each one takes turns calling my name. there must be 20 of them - no wait. correction, 19. i've only heard my name 19 times. they all look at me. each one smiles, and at the same time removes their panties. i feel sweat pour down my neck. a slight breeze picks up around my ear.
'hi' a voice whispers from behind me.
SLAP! something hits the back of my head.
'stop fucking daydreaming!' olivia say as she pulls her hand away from the back of my head. 'i hate it when you do that.'
'hey! whats the big idea!' i say really loud.
'listen asshole,' olivia says. 'i didn't bring you here just so you could stare into fucking space for hours, ok?'
'yeah, ok. i'm sorry.'
she rolls her eyes, and smiles at me.
'what do you think about anyway, when you get like that?' she says more more peaceful this time.
'its different everytime, all depends on my mood.'
'oh. so...well, what were you just thinking about?'
'oh, you know...nothing really.'
as i say this i'm trying to think up something that won't freak her out, or something that won't make me look perverted.
'come on...tell me.' she says as she leans into my shoulder.
'crayons.' i say really fast. shit that was the first thing to pop into my head.
'crayons? shit bill, that sucks man. the more we hang out, the less i feel i know what you are all about.

***

olivia is one of those friends that you can never let go of, even if you wanted to. she is about my height, dark hair, cute little nose, and huge dark framed galsses. we have known each other for years. even dated for a bit. that didn't work out. both of us thought being friends is where we should leave it. i know my reason for thinking that, but i never asked her. i couldn't take the sex. when you know someone for awhile as a close friend, sex can be strange. with olivia it was crazy. both of us would laugh. yes, thats right. laugh during sex. like it was a big game. i don't know what would come over us. it was just strange. anyway, olivia is my best friend. the only person i love right now. the only person i can trust.

***

i'm home. she drove me home, and dumped my jelly-like body on the sofa. its funny, even in a drunken state i was still ashamed of how my apartment looked. i was waiting for her to make a comment about the 3 month old cheez doddles on the coffee table.
i'm laying face down, but i can hear her walking around, touching items as she walks.
'oh my god, you still have this?' she calls out from which sounds like my bed room.
i try lifting my head up. its no use. it feels like someone scooped out my brains with an ice cream scoop, and filled my empty skull with rocks.
'i almost forgot about this' she says as she pushes the stale bag of cheez doodles aside, and plops down on the coffee table. she is holding a pair of mickey mouse ears with our names stiched on the back. she smiles and puts them on.
'we were in love, we just didn't know it then.' she readjusts the ears.
my eyes start to flutter and things start to look darker in the room. i start to take in a lot of air. my chest starts to heve. flashes of my daydream start to come into focus. then back to olivia, she is pulling me close to her.
'are you ok bill?' she says.
again back to my daydream. this time its only one girl. she is trying to say something but nothing comes out. then i pass out.

***

its the next day. my head is pounding. i glance over at the beside alarm clock. 9:07am. i'm late for work again. my mind is killing me. fuck work. i can't go today. i turn over so i'm facing the other half of the bed. oh fuck! whos that?!
'olivia!?!?!' i say really loud.
olivia almost jumps out of the bed. franticly clawing and grabbing the blanket.
'oh my god, what the fuck bill, what? what is it?' she says in a panic.
'what are you doing here?' i say as i scratch my head.
'fuck bill, are you that dumb? you scared the shit out of me.'
'i'm sorry' i try to smile. 'you spent the night?' i say as i yawn and forget to cover my mouth.
'hmm..lets see, i'm naked in your bed, all my stuff is scarttered all around the bedroom, umm...nope, i didn't spend the night.' olivia says as she gives me the finger.
'fuck you' i say 'i had a very tough night.'
'i know, you poor thing.'
'stop it.'
'you stop it, i was the one with the rough night.' she says pointing to herself, and then noticing her left breast is peeking out of the blanket, she quickly covers it.
i've always hated that. its a big theme in movies. the man and woman are lying in bed, and the blanket is always placed in such a way that you never see a nipple. i fucking give rosie perez a lot of credit for wearing that oversized tanktop in 'white men can't jump'.
'wait a minute, did we sleep together?' i say pretty loud and with a cracking voice.
'god bill, i swear you are clueless.'
'did we have sex, yes or no?'

***

lately life has been out of sync. things don't match up anymore. the break-up with shelly is, i guess, the reason for everything being out of step.
i never last for more than 11 months with a girl. but that all changed when i was with shelly. let me preface by saying everyone i've dated has been crazy. i've delt with drug addicts, suicidal man haters, super smelly hippie chicks, the list goes on. shelly seemed like the only sane one. she was sweet, caring, and loved me no matter what, and i loved her. long straight brown hair, soft lips, great skin, and a great body. she loved art. the most creative person i knew. she sometimes stayed up till all hours of the night, either coming up with new ideas future projects, or adding detail to an old one. she never really held a full time job. she said her art was more important. ugh. you know, i'd rather not get into this. i always end up crying and i hate that.

***
shit. this room is a mess. fuck. my whole apartment is a wreck. olivia just left. unlike me, olivia has a nice cozy office job that starts later in the day. right now i'm cleaning up the remains of breakfast. i made us some eggs and toast. i think she said 4 words to me while we ate. 'these fucking eggs suck.' 'thanks' i said as i pushed a mouthful of fluffy eggs through my front teeth, and smile nice and big. well, the kitchen looks a little cleaner now. off to the bedroom. it smelt of sex. that could be a good smell, or a really bad one. this was bad. the air was stale and musty. well, it smelt like that often, but this time, it seemed stronger. the blanket was in the coner of the room, the sheets were only covering half the bed, and the sweat/sex stains seem to have seeped through the mattress. i really didn't feel like doing a wash of the sheets so i just sprayed them with a room deodorizer and prayed for a miracle. i puffed the pillows and went to grab the blanket from the coner when something caught my eye. panties. black, lace, panties. olivia was looking for these this morning for a good 15 minutes. they were stuck in between the bed side table and the wall. olivia gave up her search and asked to borrow a pair of my boxers. i slowly pulled them from the grip of the table top. i rubbed them in between my index finger and thumb. they made an almost velcrow type nosie. i couldn't help myself. i pressed the insides up to my nose and took a big whiff. i got the biggest hard on.

***
oh god. its 1:30 in the afternoon, and i'm still walking around in my stolen hotel bath robe. my boss left about 5 messages on my machine. each one sounded more pissed off than the other. does waking up next to your best friend in bed with you count as a 'sick day'?

***

nothing but game shows. all day - ‘cardsharks’, ‘pyramid’, and my all time favorite ‘press your luck’. you know the early shows were rigged. no really, they were. i saw the ‘e! true hollywood story’ all about it.
i need shaving cream. i’m all out. i avoided shaving, but its been over a week and i just can’t take it anymore. trying to fall asleep is the worst. your face sticks to the pillow like velcrow. its awful. even during day light hours it always seems to get in the way. and it iches like mad.

***

‘are you there bill? i called your work, they don’t-’
‘hey’ i say, as i cut her off in mid sentence. i press the button on the machine to stop recording, but i still manage to get some feedback on the phone.
‘why are you home?’ she says, sounding mad. ‘and why are you screening your calls?’
‘are you at work? i need to talk to you.’ i said as i walk over to mute the tv, bob barker voice is way to loud.
‘yeah, but you didn’t answer my question. why are you home?’ she says sounding like my mom when she found out i skipped school just to stay home and watch cartoons.
‘i’m sick’ shit, i said that way too fast...she’ll know its a lie.
‘bullshit!’ she barks back
‘no really, i puked about 5 times the morning.’
‘it was probably the eggs’
‘shut up’
i can hear her snicker softly to herself.
‘look bill, if you’re up to it, i was thinking about grabbing a couple of drinks at that new place that just opened up by you. well, that is if you are feeling better by 8 tonight’ i can tell she says this smiling by the tone in her voice and the slight increase in her breathing.
‘hun, you know i don’t like clubs-’
‘did you just call me ‘hun’?’
‘uhhhh...’
‘wow, bill, maybe you really are sick. look, if you want to come tonight, give me a call around 6, i’ll be home by then. if i don’t answer leave a message...i’m probably in the shower.’
‘ok...sure’ i say slowly
‘oh! i almost forgot. look nice. i have someone for you to meet’ she says really fast, and hangs up.
i put down the phone, and run my fingers thru my hair. god, why did i call her ‘hun’. i called her that when we were going out, and she hated it even back then. made her feel ‘gross’.
bob is still on the tube...some old lady is spining the ‘price wheel’. i turn off the tv and let out a large blech.

***

i give olivia a call around 6:15.
‘so you want to go?’ she says sounding kind of hyper. ‘this girl that i’m bringing seems like your type.”
’my type? whats my type?’ i say dieing to hear her response.
’you know, she just seems like you would dig her, thats all.’
’oh.’
’so. when should i pick you up, are you ready now?’
i look down at my pink bunny slippers.
’give me 5 minutes’

***

olivia was right, i do like her. reminds me of an ex-girlfriend. which almost always is a turn on. its almost like getting a second chance with an old flame. and you know what she looks like naked already. well, sort of...
her name is jen. short (almost boyish) blonde hair. thin wire frame glasses and she wore her pink scarf inside the club. we all sat at a small table on the 2nd floor looking down at the dance floor and dj booth. it was me, olivia, jen and another co-worker of olivia’s named chris. chris looked like an extra from some zombie flick. dark shirt and pants, super pale skin with mountains of pimples.
***