xoxo, nico

what is the obsession with living in the past and being the center of attention? lately i’ve been hiding any motivation to be scene or play games tagging everything but her face in a little black book because it just got so fucking old and boring. i don’t miss those places i’m pretending i can’t get into without any form of identification and to be perfectly honest i simply haven’t wanted to see you face to her face in your sick and twisted little face off. i can’t be in those situations any more because i am the queen of drama and i never think before i say the things i mean. you never said you were sorry. you never cared about anything other than making whatever was currently on your arm better in a for worse way. no refunds no exchanges. i can’t take back anything i’ve chosen and i will never be the one afraid to fail. devil vs devil. winner takes angel.

when i kicked my fiance out of the beacon street apartment we shared for two years miss christmas moved in. a year later she relocated to the lower east side and i stayed at her place after la la land didn’t last so she is the reason i’m wasn’t homeless in the freezing cold streets of new york city when i decided to run away yet again with wet feet. last year we wound up living a few blocks from each other in kings county and last night she called me at two thirty in the morning freaking out with a fever of one hundred three point eight. by the time i got to her place the mercury rose to one hundred four point three so i put her in the car that drove us to the hospital.

the mansions in newport rhode island are lined up in between a rock cliff and a winding bellevue avenue. high society imported italian marble and threw lavish parties to impress the vanderbilts and the astors among 200 other famous ornaments on an exclusive list. the scandal that a prince created when he divorced his wife and married a half his age mistress in the foyer of the family’s summer estate was gossip all over the titanic. the newly weds were returning from their honey moon in egypt and boarded the ship with first class tickets off the coast of ireland but only the pregnant widow got on a life boat before it split in two and sunk to the bed in the frigid north atlantic. his heart froze like an iceberg no one saw coming until it was in front of a telescope lens. ta ta for now maybe in another life we will meet again.

the last time i was stuck in the emergency room i got a ride there in an ambulance. miss christmas was there when the decision that marrying him in the foyer of the astor mansion was probably not a good one. i was going to keep the solitaire diamond tiffany set on a platinum ring as a token so i hid it at the bottom of a change purse full of quarters he used to flip in order to figure out if he was lucky. when he came back to collect the rest of his belongings i had already come to the conclusion i don’t deserve the present nor did i need a keepsake to remind me of something broken. this is old news borrowed from a history of blues.

you’ve been charged as a third party and i apologize in advance but i believe i might have to de-invite you to my apartment. a trial date has been set for tomorrow night at ten and you have the right to plead the fifth in front of a living room full of those so called friends. let the jury of your piers be the ones to choose who’s innocent even if you know who can prove you guilty beyond a reasonable connection. they can use my room to deliberate and vote the future of our fate and i will sit and wait in a photo booth behind a red velvet curtain until the decision has been made. let them be the one’s who uncover what lies between black and white linens while i take notes and exercise my right to remain silent even though i would love to laugh out loud at you’re little accusation. remember to knock before you enter when the door’s closed because if you don’t you could possibly walk into something you weren’t  supposed to know and all i’ll have to say then is i told you so. last week i got my passport in the post and i can’t wait to blow this popcicle place with my vintage suitcase packed full of exes and noes.

so much for hoping he was the next one and only. so much for his potential and the mixed messages in the voice mailed to me or the text he sent while he painted the town red. i thought he was different for a second and for the first time in my life i was going to try to take it slow instead of letting him rip off all my clothes as soon as i stepped foot over the threshold. they win when most of the time i loose but the truth is i’m really not that into the competition. what i don’t get is why he tried to come in between me and duchess. he sent me a mixed message first but she happened to be the one out so i guess it was more convenient for him to get to her side of town. a little bird told me he was all over her and she couldn’t help but notice he was socially ackward. what the fuck i just don’t get why they all only go for what they believe is easy. guess what: i have never had to work for what i got.