here is something u cant understand.
he said, "there u have it", and there it was, an uncrossable line between us. he said it didn't matter what we experienced together, it didn't matter how many pimped-out cars we sped around in or how much beef we cooked in other people's kitchens or how much money we made (and pissed away) or how over and over i proved to him that i was tough enough and cool enough and high and drunk enough to be down for whatever....he was telling me that there would always be this thing that seperated us...this THING that he'd done.
"i didn't mean to do it," he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed. the rain was rattling the window. everything reminded me of the comic books i'd been reading...the colors...the radiating bands of energy in the air.
in these comic books the superheros had been replaced by ordinary people. they lived and ate and fucked and did drugs in a world that was exactly like ours, except every so often they'd give a hint to let us know that they knew we were out there, while we went on, stupidly oblivious to our audiences.
over on the bed he couldn't calm down. his knee was bouncing around like crazy. he had his shirt off, revealing two plain green tattoos, one on each shoulder. on the right shoulder was of a pair of long hands, pressed together in prayer.
the same hands were on his left shoulder, only they were clasped around a gun.
"i committed a mortal sin," he said, "there's no going back for me...but you...you can still get off this ride with all yr arms and legs on right."
"fucking hell," i said. i was sitting by the window, ashing my cigarette into an empty coke can.
"i just don't know if it matters," i said.
"what?" he said.
"the fact that i don't believe a goddamn word you just said."