These Days

These days I may not be so happy
After all, after all the chances you have given me
I just let you go let you go

-- These Days, The Rentals

Velda leaned towards me, out of earshot from the 15 others seated in orange vinyl chairs around the fire place, and said, "I think you are at a very interesting stage in your life." It was exactly what I was thinking. That Velda, she knows.

Interesting may be a slight stretch though, now that I think of it. I would say that it's very much a time of extremes.

Most evenings are spent alone in the darkness. There is nothing to do but nap. I endlessly curl around my down filled blanket, holding it close to my face as I stare at the red numbers on my alarm clock, waiting for something to happen. The phone may go three days without ringing, I will often check to make sure it's working. "Hello? Operator? Yeah I am just making sure my phone is working. So, where is your office? Do you like your life?" These are dangerous times.

Then I will be flooded with liquor and things to suck into my lungs. There are drunken trysts in the stairwell of my apartment building. Lips locked and wrists pushed up against the cheaply applied drywall on the 2nd flloor. I try to explain that the neighbors can hear everything. She has her black and pink panties around her ankles, and I can sense her disapointment at my refusal to continue. Why can't they convert warehouses to living spaces properly? I wake up on the bathroom floor. I say, "hello fellas," to scenesters with nice hats. I purchase 300$ blazers, and then hang them in my closet with the tag still intact. I fall in love with every woman I see. These are vaunerable times.

I found this place. It's a slice pizza joint. It is controlled by drug dealers that stand outside in track suits and endlessly talk on their cell phones. I enjoy this place becuase it's usually empty, and they serve imported beer for $3.52. Tonight I sat in the back, and listened to classic rock on their FM stereo system. Rush 2112, the entire album, and endless Heinekins. I could have spent a week there, tapping my foot, eating cheap pizza. This is thursday night. These are lonely times.

I arrive at a club, and the sign says that I must be a member. I walk in expecting to see no one, but everyone is there. Velda, Remington, Saturnino, Blanche, and Nymphalidae are sitting with several people I have never seen before. One of which is this lovely woman that I can't take my eyes off of. She is wearing a pink coat and a black flower in her hair. I try to get her attention, but before I even have the chance to truly enjoy her presence, she is leaning forward to hug her friends goodbye, exposing her white belt with amethyst rhinestones. I imagine myself placing ads in the local weeklies professing my love to her, describing her outfit, and the way I looked at her from across the table. I could ask her friends who she is, they are still at our table, but that would be too real. I return my attention to my friends assembled around me, and I am thankful that I am not home alone. These are special times.

Nymphalidae told me that she saw Ananta walking along Main Street, and that she looked very beautiful. It stings a little when she tells me this, but quickly gets tucked away, under the demand of fleeting conversation. But later, as I walked home over the bridge, towards the glowing city that still holds all the secrets of the past within its architecture, I began to feel a growing stitch in my side. I climbed the four flights of stairs to my apartment, and played the songs on my guitar that I usually play on nights like these. But the lyrics change every time I play them.

These are ...

*Black Mountain video courtesy of Black Mountain