Parrot Hilton - redux
Oct. 13th, 2008 10:52 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annwfyn.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
writing_shadows"Why don't I associate with the other 'Lost'?
"First of all, I don't get why you call them back. It just sounds dumb. Well, it sounds like the kind of name we used to give the social rejects at school. You know, like 'reality reject' or something. And god knows, that is kinda what they seem to be.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get the whole 'taken away by the bad acid trip people' thing. I mean, it did happen to me too. I missed a whole year of my life, and had some psycho steal my entire shoe collection! I had to actually kill her to get my life back. I could have ended up in prison or something, having to wear one of those horribly prison uniforms without a single manicure in sight. You know, I left Roedean in 2001. I am so not re-visiting that experience!
"So, yeah. I totally get the whole post-traumatic stress disorder thing. I just don't think it really excuses turning into a total freak. And I don't want to leap into some kind of downward social mobility spiral by hanging out with those people.
"I mean, look at them! I don't think I met one of them which didn't scream 'weirdo' from across the road. How am I going to explain to Harry Dent-Brockhurst why I'm hanging out with some guy wearing crushed velvet and crappy hush puppies if I run into someone I know? Why would I want to hang out with some guy wearing crushed velvet and crappy hush puppies? What do we have in common except for one bad white out which happened to include falling into a weirdo alternate reality. That's not exactly much to base a relationship on. I bet most of these guys don't even know who Moschino is, and think that high fashion is what's on the top shelf in River Island.
"So, no, I've not really stayed in touch with any of them. That awful girl who stole my life is dead, I've got my flat back and I'm doing quite well.
"Except for one or two little things. Well, first of all, I've been getting some weird phone calls of late. Some guy has been leaving freaky messages on my voicemail, and whilst he might be some strung out city boy, who really needs some chemical refreshment from me, I have this feeling it isn't the case. Plus, I've been having weird flashbacks. I've heard about these from a couple of acid freaks I used to hang out with at school sometimes (I was chatting to Georgie Headley-Dent on myspace a while ago. She's living in a squat in Brighton right now, and living this totally boho life), but I've never had one before. Only, my flashback seemed to be back to that year.
"It's all beginning to bother me.
"So, it looks like I may actually need to talk to the little court of Dracula wannabes and bargain basement hippies again.
"Jeez, this nightmare never ends!"
"First of all, I don't get why you call them back. It just sounds dumb. Well, it sounds like the kind of name we used to give the social rejects at school. You know, like 'reality reject' or something. And god knows, that is kinda what they seem to be.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get the whole 'taken away by the bad acid trip people' thing. I mean, it did happen to me too. I missed a whole year of my life, and had some psycho steal my entire shoe collection! I had to actually kill her to get my life back. I could have ended up in prison or something, having to wear one of those horribly prison uniforms without a single manicure in sight. You know, I left Roedean in 2001. I am so not re-visiting that experience!
"So, yeah. I totally get the whole post-traumatic stress disorder thing. I just don't think it really excuses turning into a total freak. And I don't want to leap into some kind of downward social mobility spiral by hanging out with those people.
"I mean, look at them! I don't think I met one of them which didn't scream 'weirdo' from across the road. How am I going to explain to Harry Dent-Brockhurst why I'm hanging out with some guy wearing crushed velvet and crappy hush puppies if I run into someone I know? Why would I want to hang out with some guy wearing crushed velvet and crappy hush puppies? What do we have in common except for one bad white out which happened to include falling into a weirdo alternate reality. That's not exactly much to base a relationship on. I bet most of these guys don't even know who Moschino is, and think that high fashion is what's on the top shelf in River Island.
"So, no, I've not really stayed in touch with any of them. That awful girl who stole my life is dead, I've got my flat back and I'm doing quite well.
"Except for one or two little things. Well, first of all, I've been getting some weird phone calls of late. Some guy has been leaving freaky messages on my voicemail, and whilst he might be some strung out city boy, who really needs some chemical refreshment from me, I have this feeling it isn't the case. Plus, I've been having weird flashbacks. I've heard about these from a couple of acid freaks I used to hang out with at school sometimes (I was chatting to Georgie Headley-Dent on myspace a while ago. She's living in a squat in Brighton right now, and living this totally boho life), but I've never had one before. Only, my flashback seemed to be back to that year.
"It's all beginning to bother me.
"So, it looks like I may actually need to talk to the little court of Dracula wannabes and bargain basement hippies again.
"Jeez, this nightmare never ends!"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}