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1 day before the Ashton meet up...
It was some kind of party, in some kind of basement. Or that’s
what it would become, considering the surprising ambition I would
muster on that night, to do things.. Go places, be a person and meet
people. I knew all of it would make sense in the grander picture, for
reasons that I would some day know.. I knew at the time it would feel
like random nonsense, and I’m sure a lot of it is just that. Just
garbage in-between, but every piece of small talk garbage or blank
empty moment staring into darkness inevitably leads up to a moment when
an entire life can change. Any given circumstance, no matter how
small, can will and does alter the entire path of our lives.. Because
it could have been a minute later or a minute sooner.. And we would
have never fallen into her arms.. We would have hit the breaks too
late.. We would have said the wrong thing and turned off the love spark
for good.. We would have made a mistake that cost us a dear friend..
Thankfully we have these moments of seemingly small talk and nothing
important.. To fill the gaps and put us, yes, in the right place at the
right time or vice-versa.
I’d been at the fair with Danny watching crappy bands play crappy
music. It had been a sunny morning, about 75 degrees, and then heavy
clouds had set in, not rain clouds, but the sort of clouds that dimmed
the lights during the evenings. Flyleaf was on stage and I was feeling
nautious. We were surrounded by people we’d gone to the dorms with. I
had never really felt a fit there, not surprising I am twenty-four
years old and 90% of them were 18 or 19.
We’d returned to Danny’s house a few blocks from there, and headed
to Dennys restaurant for some food and drink. I remember sitting down,
it was dark outside now. I was sipping a warm cup of coffee I’d cooled
off with ice from my water. Maybe it was the sparks from the caffeine,
or maybe the newborn energy I had that night, strangely enough, or
maybe it was that Danny suggested Pubes wanted a party. Yeah that
might have been it.
“I’ve got some people I could call up,” I said.
“Do it,” replied Danny.
Old friends.. Yes. Very old friends. Well, some not so old
anymore. Old new friends. I called up Anna and Dylan, and invited
them. Then I called up some very old friends. It was August now, a
year ago some insane events had transpired, that involved this strange
group of people.
Sabrina, Laura and Sarah had been the original three. I’d smoked
more weed with them in the summer of 08' then I had in the 9 months
prior to that summer. What a mess it had been. A very sloppy time in
my life. John Kron’s parents had gone out of town for two weeks to
Italy, and we had practically lived at his house for those two weeks..
Every day we would be stoned or drunk. John provided the highest
quality liquor possible, and the finest nug, to be smoked from the
finest device possible, a volcano.
I remember all of it like some vague dream. There are the points
of emotional intensity that I recall, strong feelings with no available
attached memories, they had been too far distorted. I had been a
raging dxm freak at the time as well, and many other drugs had slipped
into the mix aside from the simple alcohol and weed.
I had dated Laura for a spell, but that of course ended badly.
Sabrina and I had become friends one night when we were both on dxm,
and I was reading her an extremely long piece I had written about
enlightenment. She seemed curious, interested, and I liked that.
Sarah I never really got to know, she was a party friend. Many
conversations occurred I’m sure, but none of any real substance.
Things had come to a head in a strange series of events that not
only involved Sabrina, Laura and Sarah, but also Anna. Everything had
culminated to a point of complete destruction and stupidity, where
afterwards I sought desperately needed and belated treatment, in which
I found myself, destroyed my connection to drugs and alcohol and danced
with glittery fairies and everything was wonderful.. And on and on, and
so forth.
I had recently come into contact again with Sabrina, and just a few
weeks prior Anna, and now all of them would be joining me in a night at
Danny’s basement.
What a thing, what a thing.
Danny and I had preparations to make, and people to meet, so we
promptly finished our meals, downed our coffees and headed to the
fair. We found the three of them, the old crew which I had done so
many wrongs and rights with hanging in the old fish-bowl (smokeshack)
near UWMC. Sarah was not present however, apparently Sabrina and Laura
were no longer as close with her, and had adopted a new friend by the
name of Rachel. Just into the entrance of the fair I ran into Anna and
Dylan, and together, Danny and I lead them to his place, a few short
blocks away.
Most of the night was a blur to me, as I began feeling extremely
sick. I had procured a carton of cheap Dominican cigarettes for $17.99
and after smoking a few packs I was feeling deathly ill. That night
while the rest did their thing in the basement, I made many trips to
the bathroom, coughing blood and spewing retched Dominican soil venom
(to the American circulatory system.)
They all sitting around in the old worn basement, with many webs
and spiders hanging about, in broken chairs and smashed footons talking
about this and that, very few things of any importance. The three
girls passed many secrets amongst each other, and began passing them to
me via my notepad. Many creptic remarks and statements at which I did
not understand, and did not care to. Nicknames were swiftly given to
the loudest and most flamboyant of the strange crew that had
assembled. Anna had taken on the name Vanna Black and Justin had taken
on the name Victor Blue, based on the colors they wore, and the
demeanor they carried. The names seemed to fit well, though my
thoughts were so screwed as the hours passed by. My vision was
blurred, and I was rather incoherent, making stops to the bathroom
every 20-30 minutes.
Danny grabbed my old guitar Stella, which I had left at his house
after many jam sessions, and we played many songs, practicing and just
jamming while the rest of them circled an old table, talking amongst
themselves. We felt rather neglected, his beautiful playing,
myvoluptuous voice going unheard.
“Lets go to the porch,” I suggested.
“Alright yeah, “said Danny. “It’s too noisy down here.”
The front porch at Danny’s had been a place I’d fallen in love with
since the first night I’d spent sitting in the lawn chairs in it’s
beautiful darkness. The entire porch was unlit, aside from the light
emanating from the open front door. It gave it a very ominous mood,
especially when there a was group out in it.. Talking. It seemed to
give honesty and point to the conversations. We felt concealed and
safe by the darkness, thus open to speak on more intimate topics, and
more honestly. The dark gave the illusion of isolation.. Like
invisible faces, faces that did not exist, uttering words into a void..
To be filled by others, one at a time. It was open at the same time,
so we could look out on the neighborhood. The trees hung just right so
we felt insulated, but just over the road it opened up, allowing the
strange color of moon-shine to lay down upon the rock and awe those who
could understand the beauty of nature.
I loved that porch to death and I still do.
We sat out there for about an hour, jamming random tunes and
talking about different things.. Our lives, the coming school year, and
the coming topic.. Of 2012. The end of the world. I was wondering on,
wondering hard.. As to what it would feel like for the world to end
around me. Even if there was no truth at all to all the talk of 2012..
Even then.. Our world could end at any moment. We all knew this. And
so Danny and I took this topic downstairs.
Everyone seemed more quiet when we came down, more focused. Anna and Dylan had left about an hour earlier.
The topic of 2012 bounced around for quite a while. Everyone had
heard about it, everyone was fascinated by it. I don’t believe they
were as much fascinated with a date on an obscure calendar, as they
were with the possibility of an end to this existence.
I was feeling the conversation, really feeling it, because it felt
like the first legitimately real conversation that had taken place that
night, aside from all the laughter and small talk. Though.. There is
nothing wrong with laughter and small talk, my mind craves deep
thoughts and conversations at all times, even parties.
The discussion had prompted a great emotional response in me, which
is rare as I am most often quelling my emotions.. This time I decided I
would release them in the most timely beautiful fashion I could come
upon, and that was through music. And this time.. We had all their
attention.
Danny and I sat next to each other in chairs near the staircase,
and he began playing. I remember the thoughts I held just before I
began singing.. I was saying to myself.. Sing it loud.. Pour in the
emotion.. Stare into their eyes.. Connect. And a perfect moment
began. The licks and strums were beautiful and well placed, verse one,
verse two, verse three.. I was listening carefully and feeling the
energy of it more and more.. And then I set in.
I couldn’t tell you now exactly what I sang, but I can tell you how
I did it. There was no conscious preparation between verses, there’s
never time for that in a legitimate jam session. You just go with what
you feel and let what you feel create the lyrics and you just hope the
lyrics sung, along with the feelings meshed within will burn fire in a
way that will touch the audience deeply. And I think it did. I was
holding onto a dualistic feeling of which I had often done when singing
with my old friend Greg Dumbrowski. We had always strived for a sound
that we could only describe as ‘happy, but sad.’ That’s what I went
for. I pulled off the emotions from the discussion of the end of the
world.. What a perfect topic to pull from.
I started out singing about our lives on this planet, how much we
have to accomplish, yet we sit in basements and do very little. I sang
about all the ambitions we have, and how we are capable of doing
anything, and everything.. And then a sort of melancholy flowed into
the lyrics. A sort of bitter sadness. I began singing about what
society taught us, and what our parents had always told us, and what we
had always believed: that we could do anything, that we had our whole
lives ahead and that the future was ours. I tied this in with the end
of the world, placing out there the possibility that we did not have
this future ahead of us.. That we only had a few years left. I sang
into a feeling I can hardly describe.. A feeling of being truly
thankful for the here and now, and really understanding that
appreciation, for our time is so short, whether the world would end or
not, our time is so short.. And all we could do, but sitting in
basements, and all the jobs we work tie us down, and where we would
go.. I sang to the beat of a final sunset, that if we knew, what we
would be doing then.. Out in meadows and across the world experiencing
anything and everything. I sang loud and hard, with deep passion for
every word that came out, with looks on my face of happiness and
despair, and so many places in between.. So many places in between..
My voice, the acoustic guitar strums echoing within the basement.. And
my eyes tracking from Laura, to Sabrina, to Justin, to Danny and back
to Laura. Danny was really getting into it as he chanced glances at me
between riffs and saw the look in my eyes. And then the tone turned
dark.. I was singing about the fall, and the end, having the ground
coming out below us.. And what would await us afterwards.. I recall the
final lyrics.. ‘A blank page or a shining meadow.. There we were. Here
we are.‘
There was silence for several long moments afterwards. I couldn’t
really believe it. I don’t think anyone could. Then they applauded,
which was nice. I smiled like a dumbass when they did, I’m sure of
that much. I’d never received a genuine applause before, not for my
music, perhaps at poetry sessions at the MC, but that’s all. And I
remember the way Laura had been staring at me.. When I looked into her
eyes. I’d never seen a look like that in her eyes. They all seemed
stunned. Then Danny apologized to the small audience, saying that it
was just preliminary stuff. Nothing final. Such is true, once a free
jam has ended, it can never truly be found again.
Very little followed. The three girls left, leaving Danny, Justin
and I to stand outside on the porch talking about our problems.
Justin, aka Victor blue had much to say ,and so did I, while Danny
listened carefully and offered occasionally advice. Eventually I found
it was the right time to head home, as it was about five in the
morning. Victor stepped inside and I shook hands with Danny.
“Nice jam,” I said smiling, walking to my car.
“You too,” He replied, turning and stepping inside.
7:52 AM
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