#goodfelow

✎        `      @goodfelow​     ➜       that tastes like garbage.

        𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴'𝚂  𝙰  𝚂𝙿𝙴𝙲𝙺  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙾  𝚂𝙰𝚄𝙲𝙴  staining  the  lip  of  my  tie,     i  dab  at  it  with  my  napkin,     but  my  efforts  are  futile    —     it’s  ruined,     i’ll  have  to  soak  it  later  when  the  bathrooms  are  clear.     it’s  hard  to  make  out  neil’s  voice  in  the  throughs  of  others,     the  chorus  of  the  lunchroom  is  bustling  with  boyish  vitality  and  vigor     ;     i’m  left  feeling  𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚔,     unsure  of  when  to  hinge  my  way  into  the  amicable  conversation  in  front  of  me.     

as much as i wished it weren’t so, i was startlingly aware of the fact that i was replaceable.    my latest grievance was with the guy before me.  neil perry.   it was no fault of his own, i guess.    i’d cast all the judgement i wanted just based on the information that i thought i knew about him and the way that he carried himself.     couple that with the way in which my friends seemed to flock to him as if he were something new and shiny.      i absolutely hated it as i knew that i could not compare in the slightest.         though, i’d admit - i’m curious.    endlessly so, to the point that i’ve got him right where i wanted - in my space.  cigarette sat in it’s usual place between my lips, fathers lighter pulled from my pocket and sparking to life with ease as flame meets it’s rightful place at the end of cigarette.         i’d found it soothing, a vice in which to ease the onset of anxiety and irritation that was already churning in my stomach. 

my eyes study his face, perhaps a little longer than i’m intending.   to me, he reeks of private school privilege.    reeks of two parent home and home cooked meals, clean clothes and fine education.     he was everything that i failed to meet up to and for that i hated him.      the outside superficial layer was something i despised, i didn’t know what lay beneath the surface - i wondered if it was just as polished and maintained.        in my typical fashion, i’m setting in to badger him with a variety of questions.      picking his brain and working to unwind the threads that held him together. 

@goodfelow​

n who’s the decisive fucker thit made a short-lived point tae make good wi friends of friends? short-lived meaning saying hi in passing n thinking oh i better shove thit neil perry in ma back pocket fir later, make good wi the guy n then nevir getting round tae it fir the sake of a bad, bad memory. there’s nothing worse than an acquaintance. the busted lip, ah presume, is making the statement in conversation. total pin pointer.   — oh,   ah sais and squint at neil, wonder what fucking picture ah’m painting of masel (first meeting: kicked ootae sydney’s house; second: joking a no at awl funny joke fir no laughs right now).   — total blood bath.

                contextually speaking, anyone wi a set of peepers can see when ah’m full of it. see: present. speaking from a lanky fucking frame disnae help ma cause. blood bath ma arse, but hell ah’m sharing the truth of falling oaf ma bed in a frenzy this morning when ma brother swaggers oan in and screams in ma ear tae get up, laughing at the sight of blood immediately dripping from ma mooth when ah hit ma face oan the cabinet somehow. ma fault fir no watching where ah’m going or something. dozy fuck.   — whit’s thit people say ... you should see the other guy? thit.