I got home from tour and everything exploded up.
Cale and Rjyan and I sat on the curb outside the house at dusk, eating whole mangos, and Rjyan, who is my summer roommate, said "When I was younger, this is always what I dreamed my life would be like."
Like hanging out in the kitchen, mazing tiptoed over the 50 freshly silkscreened t-shirts folded on every surface, drinking lemonade from broken tea cups, dancing to "Maps" on repeat, giggling while Cale smokes out the window and tells us all the too-much-information details of his new "relationship" with a girl reffered to only as "The Pill Princess"?
Like hanging out against the wall of a Sparks™ sponsored college party, where we are the oldest people there, watching a the cutest girl in the room -- leaden footed and sloppy from the alcohol, but scary coke-eyed wild with caffienated animus -- douse the kid with the adventurous hair (thinking "Strokes" but achieving "Robert Smith windtunnel") and his sophomore lady in Sparks™. Wild girl then slugs back the remainder of the drink, takes two steps, fakes out like she's slinking off, and then just swings back and punches the other girl in the side of the head, with the Sparks can still in hand, while Lipps INC.'s "Funkytown" skips in the background?
Like sitting in the bar at the Fireside Bowl, alone, pre-show, in a plaid suit, chewing ice and doing maintenence on yr cell phone (deleting people, downloading "Ante UP" as yr new ringtone), watching with stilted horror and everyone else in the room treats their beer like the last supper. Watching the girls go from excited to sweaty to slack-in-the-face. Watching the boys go from alive to riled to solemn. Wondering who is scared and who is just having fun still...?
Like making best-of-grunge/1994 themed mix tapes? (This is Rjyan's sole domain: Whigs, Weezer, Singles soundtrack hott traxx, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, "Black Hole Sun" -- I hate to relent to the power of grunge - but it's real.)
Like feeling like every creative urge is validated by the universe, feeling like yr hands cannot move fast enough to keep up with the screed in your brain, that all that matters is being in love and transgressing capitalism by making free art about whats going on in the world, being the cloud of witness, and riding bikes across town and only having half a job, and being totally surprised about how free you can get, how little sleep you need and how un-scared you are to be ?
Yes, thats the one.Posted by Jessica at June 27, 2004 02:25 PM | TrackBack