No Form

This place feels gaudy. It feels oversaturated. The colors are too strong, and the shapes and styles are too much. The clothes look like cheap not-trying ripoffs. Like they’re… blegh. It makes me feel queasy, like I ate too much cheese. It feels like I’m walking through a brothel and the city keeps leaning in a doorway with a smile missing some teeth. But in the same way, it does compel a response. I want to both sneer and push it away and also lay with it.

I’ve been walking around the city with friends who don’t know me. They’re not really friends. I make them laugh, though, so I need them around.

I saw a woman barfing into a garbage can in the square. I pictured her smiling a toothless smile at me and then doubling over and heaving like I saw her doing. Heaving and hacking and barfing. Then up again, lick her lips, wink at me, and smile.

The city looks pretty and smells bad. It’s after midnight and the old buildings are lit up. Looking up at them I can picture a proud people gathering under them, all in concert and agreed. All with proud, lofty eyes and fur coats and resolve. All singing a song about determination and victory that’s subtle and strong. And then a fat man holding a bottle with his belly showing stumbles into me and farts and laughs and wobbles away.

I’m drunk. Thank god because it’s cold as shit. One of my friends is cute. I think she may want it. But I have the barf smell in my nose. There are other groups roaming around. Usually big white euro guys being loud and women’s eyes wandering toward us. I made eyes with some of them. They’re beautiful, but they seem loveless. I feel like their sex would be loveless. And cold. And their jeans look cheap, wtf. One of them smiled at me. She was missing a tooth.

I told someone my life feels cheaper here. She didn’t hear me. She held up the bottle, said cheers in their language, and tossed some back. Then yelled “woo!” They were having fun. I was fine.

My crew found another crew we know. We just stopped in the square together. I saw a young woman sitting on a bench a little bit away by herself. I want to be with her, not with them. I’m still drunk so I’m happy to not say anything to her. I’m sitting down at the opposite side of the bench so she doesn’t feel encroached on or whatever. It’s cold as shit.

I like being next to people, sometimes. Sometimes it’s a really nice experience to share. On the subway, next to someone, body touching body, with a stranger, it’s nice to share that. It’s the only thing I’ll share with that person, but it’s actually kind of intimate. My butt is on the same bench that her butt is on right now. That’s nice.

The friends are talking in two’s and three’s. They’re laughing. This woman hasn’t said a word or moved yet. I like that. Neither have I. I think I just saw a rat. It was probably missing a tooth.

“Are you in their program?” I forgot she could talk. “Yeah.” She kept looking at the people talking and the other groups meandering around the square. I want her to keep talking to me, but also kind of don’t.

The friend who may want me just looked over at us on the bench. I kept looking up at the buildings, but I noticed her looking. She probably wants it. But now I’m with bench girl. I pictured me and bench girl exchanging a knowing look and scoffing at her.

A big euro guy and his friend are walking over to our bench. Fuck… He just asked bench girl something in their language. She hasn’t said anything. He’s laughing and asked again. He’s doing that thing where his dick is kind of in her face though he’s a few feet back. Fuck this guy. He just tried to say it in English. Oh no, fuck, bench girl is getting up. She just started walking away towards the church, away from the group. This guy sucks. He just said something to me with a smirk, like a bully in a disney channel movie. His friend laughed. Maybe they’ll fall asleep drunk in the square and the toothless rat will eat their eyeballs.

At least the stars aren’t cheapened by this city. I’m wearing a fake fur hat I bought yesterday for their version of $10. I probably look like a dumbass.
It’s nice to watch people flirting. I get why there are all those songs about young love and the magic in lovers’ eyes and whatnot. It’s true. There’s something special in that space between their eyes when they look at each other. The girl who wants me is flirting with one of the guys in our crew. It’s ok, she wants me more than him.

What if everyone in this square started dancing a big choreographed dance all at the same time. Probably some kind of waltz. But like with a cheap, tinny keyboard, knowing this city. And then they all finished facing the bench, and bench girl was back on the bench facing me, and then we kissed and everyone cheered. Ha… that’s dumb. But that would be great.

What if I walked over by bench girl and just silently looked up at the church with her. I’d be fine if we didn’t say anything to each other. There’s something sweet about just standing there together. Maybe she’ll ask me something again.
“Why aren’t you with your friends?”
“They’re not my friends.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
“I like this better.”
Silence. I see her look at me from the corner of my eye. A few beats pass. “I want to walk through the alleys.”
“Let’s go.”
We start walking together to the side of the church where the street gets narrow and you can hear our footsteps echoing off the walls. We don’t look at each other

One of the roaming women just sat next to me on the bench, and she’s looking at me with droopy eyes and a grin. Her friends are standing next to the bench, laughing into their coats. She just asked me where I’m from with a thick accent, then burped, then chuckled. Her friends are laughing. Their laughs feel mean. Her teeth are yellow.

I got up and walked toward the church. I don’t see bench girl. Maybe she’s waiting for me in the alley. Maybe I’m going to get jumped by the euro dick. I don’t see her in the alley. I feel lonely.

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