We are two teenage girls, Lux Black and Andie Flowers. We live in a beautiful, disastrous small town. We are best friends with an appetite for destruction, intoxication, and beauty and, naturally, we have lots of thoughts. Here is a collection of our communications, thoughts, and other things we enjoy.
I’m sitting on my rooftop, just smoked my 4/20 cigarette I rolled with my parents weed before I left. And I just got really sad…
And a little overwhelmed…
My dad and I had this conversation the other day that I really wanted to share with you, but haven’t had the time. My parents are leaving tomorrow and then I’ll have all the time in the world… to read, to lay by the ocean, to write, to commiserate…
Fog just brushed past my leg…
Anyway. He told me that he knows that I have this sweet sorrow. This intense, intriguing sorrow that I get completely lost in sometimes. He says I have a story with the plot of every self destructive movie or book. It was crazy how easily he placed my feelings, my emotional situation. My father described them in perfect detail, more than I’ve ever been able to verbalize. My father.
I was sobbing by the end of it.
I came to realize that one of the main reasons I got my tattoo now was because I feel like what I’m doing with Parker is stripping me of my wildness. And I need to know, to remind myself that I’ll be wild forever. Not necessarily drunk, high, and fucked up, but free spirited, enchanted, and mystical.
Its now morning, I got too overwhelmed and felt too nauseous from the tobacco in the spliff so I had to lie down haha.
I really don’t want to come across like I’m saying being drunk and high is a bad thing, because we both know, this is not what I believe. I think that those two are the most exquisite of all feelings. Remember when you Alma and I were leaving Jalaya’s one night, after you kept asking me, “No but seriously, where is Sally?” And then proceeded to drive, perfectly of course. You looked over at me, right as we were passing the turn into Mark’s road, “I’ve been able to place the perfect word for being drunk. Exquisite.” I’ll always remember that and will constantly describe an altered state of being as exquisite because of that night. It’s so true.
My parents just left about half an hour ago. They got so drunk last night, mom was dry heaving this morning in the bathroom. She was in one of her drunken rants, with her shirt practically tie died from the wine bottle that she spilled all over herself, and she held everyone’s attention at the party and leaped into why I was here and that I “drink way too fucking much.” Her eyes in that glossy sheen. I love her so much, we’re just as lost as each other.
I hope your 4/20 was splendid, I’d love to hear all about it. I’m off for a walk on the beach, tough life, huh? Miss you terribly. Love you always.
Stay Golden Pony Boy,