The first one called and he called me a terrific friend because I sent him a Japanese wind-up baby, a heavily stamped Chicago library due date card and a flyer for Chaos in Tejas fest - for his birthday. Year 32, a number that ten years ago, I doubted he would see, despite heroin being a preservative and all. Now he breathes life robustly and being a terrific friend is easy when every day you are glad they are alive to be friends with.
The second one, a near stranger, called me a liar because he did not believe I cried during Sin Orden's set at Chicagofest. I told him I stopped jarring and dating my tears years ago, so the burden of proof falls squarely on me.
The third one, he called me a baby and meant it, cos all I do is act helpless, then cry and gurgle as I flood with a heartbreak that extends back before my birth in fall of 76. I said, I am not a baby all the time, I wish you knew me not as a baby, you would know me as awesome.
The last, a girl I have never looked in the eyes of, she called me a genius, and that she believes in my words, and now I am duty bound to proove her belief, and get my song and dance ready to present by Saturday's memory lane showcase strolldown.Posted by Jessica at April 12, 2005 09:01 PM | TrackBack