Another Dud Night And Lyssa Brags (Part 1)

Another Dud Night

Another dud night, I’m really starting to hate who I go out with as they do nothing but ruin my night. However, each weak I fall subject to their bad planning, stupid idiosyncrasies and idle characteristics that make their choices my shit night. Tonight I knew as soon as Ralf and Keith were involved that we were going to have a shit night. When we left Keith’s house and Ralf offered to drive that was the end of my optimism, shit night was written all over such a disastrous move.

It was like subjecting your king into a position of checkmate in chess and as Ralf shifted into first gear and took off he had already fucked up the strategy that designed a good time. I know that I can have a better time but I just need to go out with people that will put me into that zone and sadly, whom I went out with tonight didn’t even come close. Keith as per Friday was doing his usual routine of sitting in the farthest corner making it known to the world that he wasn’t enjoying himself and he wasn’t having a good time.

Ralf was having a good time on the night but his carrying on in the car on the way to our outing was incredibly stupid. First he thought to state that it was his car and then he sternly noted that we would be doing what he said, because it was his car. When any suggestion apart from his was fabricated he wouldn’t listen. Shawn was alright and he was the only shed of light that made it partly worthwhile but otherwise, it was a shit cap to a bad weekend.

My eyes grow tired and I have no time to express my woes on these pages so I will leave now and remind myself that there is a possibility that I might be heading to the City tomorrow. Shawn sold his damaged motorbike to his cousin for $250 and as he’s getting paid tomorrow he wants to spend his money on club clothing. Shawn has taken a liking to the clothes I lent him to wear and as Keith was speaking spitefully, he called me the trendsetter. Anyway, these eyes are tired and they grieve for lost sleep so I shall now depart these solid lips of silent praise and muse no longer but in my sleep.

Why I Rang Lyssa

Sunday 7:30 p.m.

There are only a couple of hours until this weekend is finished. As I have no more duties or obligations apart from the chronology herewith I shall accompany my fingers press with thoughts administered. There might only be Saturday night and today to speak of but I am doubtful as to whether three or four hours would be enough to complete such an arduous task of depiction. As this month’s chronology has been hectic to say the least I am a bit confused as to what chronology has been told but I can be sure the above named are the only moments I have to worry about. Therefore, let us begin with Saturday…

We shall begin after I wrote my last entry on Saturday, finishing the saga of storytelling around 5:30 p.m. The reason I ceased the inhabitance of literature to these pages was due to my receiving an expected call or rather, an anticipated one. As you would not have heard, against what my conscience was telling me upstairs I decided to give Lyssa a call early on Saturday. Part of the reason was because I was bored and I wanted to have someone to talk with but I shouldn’t have abated my options to the will of my curiosity.

The other reason why I chose to think of calling Lyssa was because we had broken back into confusion by my weak will of sleeping over at Lyssa’s house. Since that day Lyssa hadn’t thought to call me so I figured she was just using me as a stepping stone and later in our conversation on Saturday I found out just what she had done in the past couple of days. My excuse to call Lyssa was so I could ask her how her grandmother was doing but that wasn’t the real reason to my call. Stupidity would have been the real reason of my call, the allure of pulsating malevolence mixed with curiosity.

I learnt from our conversation as Lyssa done her usual boastful conversation regarding her weekend, sounding naïve to the fact that I didn’t really want to hear about her having fun or other factors of hatred. As Lyssa explained to me that on Thursday she went out shopping for a party in which Ralf invited only her I felt as if our night together was really nothing, an abuse of past amity.

Party In Douglas Park

When I was asking myself if I should sleep over Lyssa’s house on Wednesday night I kept thinking “Isn’t she going out with Ralf now or at least growing feelings for him” and to see Lyssa head out with Ralf two days later pulls forth confusion. Friday night Lyssa went out with Ralf to that party in Douglas Park and as Lyssa told me the details I was wishing that she would appreciate the fact that I didn’t want to hear any of it by being so quiet but she just kept piling insult to injury.

I didn’t have the nerve to ask Lyssa if she could lay off her conversation about Ralf and Naqi as if she was talking to one of her friends. I know how Lyssa would feel if I started talking oh so casually about some girl I was just getting it on with, she wouldn’t be too pleased.

Lyssa was at this party in Douglas Park for the whole of Friday night and as she commented casually that she slept there more visions of spite rolled through my mind of where Lyssa slept. “I didn’t get back until ten minutes ago” Lyssa noted as I noted the time being 5:30 p.m. Fearing to tread into more conviction I asked Lyssa how great her night was and what eventuated. I couldn’t help the curiosity that was bulging through my bold veins and as much as I didn’t care what she had done, a part of me wanted to hear the intimidating stories.

Lyssa told me how she only went down there with Ralf and she didn’t know anyone there. However, she got control of the music for the whole night and decided to kill the ‘Ricky Martin’ soundtrack. Lyssa boasted about how Ralf had the most beautiful long blonde hair she had ever seen. Being around the same length as Lyssa’s hair she remarked on how she had to get her hair professionally blow dried because she was in competition with Ralf.

In her own words, Lyssa has only seen Ralf five times now and in each time she has had her hair blow dried so she could at least be up there with the beauty of his hair. She felt the necessity to do the same despite it being just a party, mostly because she probably wanted to impress. Lyssa also gloated of how her mum really approved of Ralf when she had seen him. “God” she uttered, “He’s good enough to be a model”.

Ralf The Model

These words vibrated for a period in my mind as I felt the loathing of how Lyssa felt the need to put me down in such a inadvertent way. Realizing that my quietude was resultant to her boastful tongue she added “He’s more my mum’s type, he’s not my type at all” and yet she continues to perfect her hair and go out with him as if they were a couple. I guess seeing an ex girlfriend that you shared so much with and loved fall for another, you tend to get frustrated and resentful and envious.

I applaud Lyssa’s good fortune but I can’t help to feel undervalued and jealous when I hear of Lyssa having fun with another man. Breaking up is hard and one year down the track, even though we are practically over each other, the letting go doesn’t get any easier. Nevertheless, I feel that if I’d have found someone by now to love my envy wouldn’t be as proudly taken against Lyssa. I would still hate to see Lyssa walking hand in hand with another guy but knowing that I had someone special to treat in the same sorts, it would cushion my fall.

Parties are meant to be enjoyed and despite not knowing anyone there Lyssa told me that she thought it was great. Curiosity draws me to wonder if Lyssa ever got the chance through the night to ease some of those ‘Don’t know anyone’ nerves by getting onto Ralf. They would have had plenty of chance in the car to Douglas Park as it is a fair drive but I don’t believe Lyssa would have done anything but hold conversation.

However, it would have been a different story at the party, where Ralf would have felt to dominate her space by getting onto her as to chase off anyone else that favored her good looks. I am also interested to know how close Lyssa would have slept to Ralf and if together, what did they get up to. Anyway, away from all this guessing, Lyssa didn’t get back home until late Saturday because she attended soccer with Ralf who was playing on the day.

Boastful of how great a soccer player Ralf was and how he was asked to stay back for three other games Lyssa didn’t stop the red carpet from flowing under his blonde locks. Lyssa seemed proud of him without showing it in her voice but I know Lyssa long enough to realize how she relates to contentment. I know now fully what kind of person Lyssa is and the type of people she goes out with. When people used to say that I was totally the opposite of Lyssa and wrong for her, they were right.

A Material Girl

Lyssa is a material girl and I’d hate to say it but she prefers guys who are well of in one way or another. Lyssa was young when she started going out with me and I used to adore how she looked upon me as talented but sadly, my poetry or loving from the heart will never equal her greed for materiality. Lyssa prefers the guy who looks like a model, a guy who plays soccer, someone who looks like he can one day succeed and be rich without even trying.

As much as I hate to say it, Lyssa likes guys with cars and her idea of love is a curious one but I believe she doesn’t fall for the man inside but the outer flamboyance. I could just picture Lyssa sitting there watching Ralf play, thinking how great he was and being proudly ostentatious in heart. Lyssa is alike of Penelope when it comes to patting her man on her back but Penelope actually makes a scene of it where Lyssa would just think how great it was in her head.

If I had to draw parallels, I would say that Lyssa has turned into an Rochelle, Tyler’s girlfriend. Being only seventeen years of age she was showing her baby-love by writing Tyler’s name all over her TAFE books. At the barbecue you could just see the excitement in her eyes as he scored goals in our muck around soccer game, she was proud of him and elated in some way to be going out with him.

You could see it in her bid to give him a massage trying to be oblivious of everyone else when in reality she just wanted to shower her catch of the day with unbridled glorification. If more parallels must be drawn and I’m sure this one has been brought up from time to time, Lyssa is the complete opposite to Jewell. One falls in love with the actions and ability of her lover and the other falls in love with the person inside.

The CD In The Cupboard

It would be just and right to finally reveal how my sending Lyssa poems and that CD was a mistake. Lyssa appreciated my poems and I guess the same applies with my CD but when you know that the CD is sitting in some dark cupboard, forgotten and abandoned gathering dust, you know Lyssa doesn’t really relish what my heart has poured.

My heart was struck when Lyssa remarked on the short time it would have taken to make the CD instead of the invaluable significance of my love it showed and that attitude is what distinguishes Lyssa from another. Even though my giving to Jewell produced no benefits apart from an overdue breakup of dependence I knew through her treasuring words that she admired and was grateful for my heart’s gift. Jewell was never one to be won over by fast cars and flashes of money.

Her heart was her cradled domain, brittle as glass and irreparable to shards of misgivings. With my poetry and my dominant words that struck the chords to her affection I did find myself to lay on such brittle glass. With my passing I did crack that glass and when my CD was sent to Jewell the joyous weeping of wrongful appreciation had me fall from such unstable fluidity and still to this day I am falling in hopes that I will hit bottom and then pick up the pieces.

Rock Bottom And Phoenix

I was told by Imad that you have to hit rock bottom before you can pick yourself up again and I guess rock bottom to me would be falling into Phoenix’s trickery and traps. If one day I finally got it on with Phoenix I wouldn’t only lose the respect of most people but I will place myself into that large pool of mistake that everyone has been through. I know that if I do have sex with Phoenix then I would have hit rock bottom. To me, that signals that I’ve finally given up on finding someone, letting the idea of sex get the better of me.

I’m not about sex, I’m about flattering love, caring and feeling the tender warmth of love as I lie next to the woman I love. To have sex with Phoenix would be like giving it up to a hooker which is a disdain within itself. To myself and everyone else, it would appear as if I had given up hope but despite all these close calls between Phoenix and I, I’m grateful that both of us have never been eager at the same time. What catastrophe would shake the proud heavens if we did bump uglies, shame would be one of them.

Getting Off The Phone

My conversation with Lyssa ended twenty minutes after she boastfully started jabbering away. I finally built up enough of a wall to note that I had to jump off the phone and get ready for Keith to come over my house and pick me up at 6:30 p.m. There was no lie, Keith was picking me up so we could head to his house, watch some Football and then head to Greater Union to watch ‘Austin Powers’.

Lyssa sounded as if I was trying to brush her off when we were jumping off the phone but as I prolonged my saying goodbye as not to sound rude I told her I would probably see her at Greater Union that Saturday night and then I was off. Lyssa was also going to see ‘Austin Powers’ on Saturday night but she wasn’t sure as to what time she was heading out. I assumed that Lyssa was probably going with Ralf but didn’t have the opportunity to gloat of who was accompanying her.