introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the trip: part deux (the second of two entries about the great nashville excursion) before midnight - fifteenth of may, 2001-frustrated "boxed up i'm gonna scream this isn't happening you fucking machine"~serendipity jones, on the current state of the computer. gah. i think i've tried writing these entries a hundred times and i get more and more frustrated. they are long entries, for i have a lot of stuff i really want to cover...and my computer does this thing where it lets me work and work and eats them. i despise that. i will break you machine. i will break you. now. better things. "i hope that when you think of me it makes you think of true romance."~neil finn its been really strange for me to write this all down because its like i told you before, writing it is making me remember and re-live every detail. i don't mind it. in fact, i relish it. i'm not sure where i left off.....so i'll just sort of pick a spot..... Mark and S. kept leaving us alone and i was glad for the moments we had to spend together. i was nervous, but i was probably rambling like nothing else. you kept doing really adorable things. you kept tucking your teeshirt collar over your neck and the back of your ears to protect them from the sun. you had talked me out of bringing the blanket. you kept laying back in the grass and i would get so excited inside because when you sat up, i could brush off that dead grass from your shirt. and we talked. i loved talking to you. nervous laughter danced on the air with bands such as FemeKuti, A String Cheese Incident, and Blues Traveler. I knew how much you'd wanted to see Blues Traveler...probably as much as i was looking forward to String Cheese. We were a way away from the stage but the music was so good and floated on the warm sunny air all afternoon. and so we sat together alone sometimes and with mark and s at other times. They left us to go to a bar outside of the venue and as we sat there together... we watched a boy sitting on his blanket alone. his father kept going off to get high in the port-o-johns (or at least, that was the story we'd made up for him...you are such a great sport) and left him alone for lengths of time, coming back with treats like alligator on a stick (which he delighted in) and the occasional sugar-laden beverage. I was thirsty then, but nothing could have torn me away from you for a moment. I was thirsty and as we watched the ten year old boy in front of us, my own thirst was reflected in his royal blue sugary-slushie lips. Dehydration is no laughing matter, i realize...and thirst is the seventh sign of dehydration (WHY do i retain this useless information?) but i wasn't leaving you for a second. mark and s came back and i finally realized to what extent my thirst was reaching. i'd been watching random tennesseans pass with huge cups of iced tea and nothing seemed as though it might quench my thirst...and i went up to get a glass before i realized that in the south, where you are from, they drink their tea sweetened. i grew up on the bitterness of straight up tea. i opted for light purple gatorade. besides. you can cover more ground in game play with gatorade. ITwas in me. Mark and S kept leaving to see other bands on other stages. You and i listened to the music and talked and watched the kid with the druggie dad make pipes out of straws and aluminum foil. the sun began to dip as string cheese played. some girls that we didn't know came and sat with us and ate their food and i didn't want to share you, but i was polite. string cheese played that canyon song i really love and as they broke into a rendition of run dmc (as i was informed by one of the girls: AEROSMITH)'s Walk this Way, they picked up their things and left. Well. They picked up most of their things. They left some garbage on the parameter of our invisable blanket. Did i mention that you talked me out of bringing the blanket? I wanted to dance. Sometimes, the feeling overcomes me. I wanted to dance but in the middle of a few hundred middle aged people who were filling in the empty spaces on the grass to see Bob Dylan and who didn't care much about what was going on on stage, i didn't feel comfortable....and so, i kept a beat in my head, with my fingers and feet, with my pulse. Mark and S came back and finally, bob dylan came onstage. Mark didn't know many Dylan songs and quite frankly, i found him to be a little disappointing. the bob dylan cds that pepper my collection are much more entertaining. perhaps it was because he's sobered up and his fans keep on getting fucked up. perhaps it was because i was distracted. listen: if there is a person from pittsburgh in a crowd, mark and i will meet them. and she was sitting right in front of us. i never mean to meet these people and they pass in and out of my life with the greatest of ease. her name was mary and i stood there (or was i sitting? no matter, it was near you...) and watched her look at her husband and ask him to dance with her. and why not? the crowd had grown more drunk as the sun moved west across the sky. people were unleashing free spirits, if only by bought means of the beer and jack daniels coolers. and mary wanted to dance and he told her no. i could tell that he was enjoying the music but that there was no changing his mind and so, in one of my more random and natural acts of unthought out abandon, i got up and i told her that Iwould dance with her. and dance we did. now, i'm not saying that i'm any great dancer and i'm quite aware that i looked like an idiot but i was having a good time. sometimes, i just need to move on rhythms and sometimes, i need to get lost in sound. its a freer feeling; its a great expression. and as i danced there, listening to the drawling nonsensical smoothness of bob's voice, i got into my head that you might be thinking that i wasn't having a good time with you and that that was why i'd gone off for a few moments and i didn't want you to think that....and so, as i turned my head to look back at you and smile, i caught your eyes there in the twilight and my heart stung with nervous happiness. you make me so happy. and as i caught your eyes then, i felt as though you might understand... and as the sun dipped finally below the horizon and the sky blued with night and moonlight, the ten year old boy and his shel silverstein father came to life. his name was loel and he was full of life in the cool of darkness. he had a hundred questions and a few admirable talents (ie: the armpit farting thing....SKILLZ) and when he asked me about my tongue ring and if it had hurt and why it didn't, i heard Jim's words slip like light from my mouth: "do you want the long version or the short version?" i had forgotten what an impact he'd made on my life in those few short years. i'd forgotten always asking why to everything and always asking for the long version even at 18 years. jim was a father to me in a way that my own couldn't be at that time...and i was glad to hear his words seep from my lips. "the long version" Loel answered. and so, i sat down with him and explained the system of the muscles in the human tongue and watched his eyes watch me and my hands and i watched him nod as he understood. and in one big wash of a wave of epiphany, i realized something. i realized then that i want that someday. i want eyes like that staring back at me and i want eyes like that looking as though i've got all of the answers in the world. i want to be that little boy's mom. i want to have the answers. i want to be the light in his eyes. i have always chided my sister and told her that she will be the baby machine in the family but something in me has changed. as i sat there with loel, i realized that someday, i'll want that all the time. i'll want that for myself. it was a good feeling. and as dedicated as his interest was in those moments, i felt on top of the world. as dedicated as those moments were, they slipped away from me as loel went to ask his father if he could have a tongue ring. his father shot me a glance and i backed off a little bit. we joked some with mary and i danced with her some. mark learned a new way to dance. and then, they left again as the stage readied for your black crowes. it was you and me again. everyone in the crowd seemed to be standing. and i couldn't see. i couldn't see but you with your height advantage...you kept on finding windows of vision for me and i'd stand in front of you and watch the liquid movement of that lead singer...was his name chris robbins? i like to remember these things...and there was one moment when i swore i could feel your breath for just one moment. you see: the music was wonderful but the thought that you, the man that i've come to love so dearly and madly, were near...made everything else a strangely vivid backdrop. there was one song that they played that they said was from their new album. there was one song that i sat down while they played and if i hadn't heard one other song that weekend, that was the one i needed to hear. i sat there beside you, under the mist-shrouded moon and waited for you to hold my hand. and we both know that you didn't but it was okay. the music was enough and overwhelming for me. as the crowd began to thin and the encores were playing and the drunken fans began to head home to sleep and impending hangovers, he came up beside me. now i want you to know once and for all that he didn't offend me at all. you should know that it takes a lot to offend me...but i've become overly cautious with strangers and i never want to give too much away to someone, let alone a drunk guy with the thickest accent ever. ( i feel as though i haven't said enough about the accents. they are thick. they are sugary. they are suthern.) "whats yer name?" "karen," i lied. it was my first response. "is that your boyfriend?" i beamed. "he sure is." and so it went. he kept asking me what your name was. i kept telling him different things. it was a sort of game that reminded me of brian m and that thing we did with the fish to that teacher in study hall. i was amused but still overly cautious as he put his friendly alcohol-heavy arm around my shoulder. by the time i knew that he meant no harm, i regretted telling him that my name was something other than it was...but as the last encore finished, we stole away and that was the last i saw of him. we headed back through the city streets to the supreme court house where you'd parked your car. for the first time all day, i felt as though it were really you and me...as though i didn't have to share you with anyone or anything and as your hand brushed mine i apologized because after a day of intensity and the prospect of implosion due to nervousness and excitement and doubt, i just wasn't sure anymore. i knew that i love the light in your eyes and your voice and your laugh and your adorable mannerisms but i just wasn't sure how reciprocated it was. i just didn't know where i stood with you. and your hand brushed against mine and we both apologized hastily and you gave me a hard time about something and i felt comforted. that was the you i knew. the sarcastic smart ass that joked around. the sweetest boy in the world. i dont' remember what you said, but i do remember how i smiled. i smiled so it hurt. we got to the car and met s and mark who seemed to be hitting it off quite well. i think we all know now that we were right. "they were gonna tee oh double yuh your car," they said in near stereo unison. we piled into the car and headed for the highway. i wasn't hungry but i was still thirsty. the warm spring sun has a way of laser beaming the moisture out of me. you have a way of leaving me breathless. but we ate some mcdonald's. the woman gave me sweetened tea, even after the experiment that left me spitting tea out your window. i just didn't care. we headed back to the Red Roof Inn in question. i liked that you sat on the bed next to me as we ate. i couldn't stomach food much easier than i had that same morning and ended up throwing most of it away. i made a point to remember starving people later in the trip. and so, we decided not to go to the club because it was so late. i was sort of glad because nobody can ever hear a thing in the clubs and i wanted to talk to you some more. instead, mark took a shower while the three of us rode off to Kroger('s) and bought some six packs and a deck of cards. And you sat in the chair and i was selfish for you as i sat there on the bed. i want you to know that i don't tell you enough how much it means to me that you don't judge me for the things i do. i want you to know that when mark passed that joint to me that i did have second thoughts but that i didn't feel guilty. i just didn't want you to feel left out. i like that your smile puts me at ease. and we sat and talked and laughed and were ridiculous and i loved it. we each took turns shuffling cards and i loved to watch your hands move as you did it. you have moments when you are smooth and molten, with the grace of a leaf on the wind. i bet you didn't even know that. the time came to play a game because we needed something for our hands to do. well. i needed something for my hands to do. i am always overly concious of my hands. and Go Fish it was. I don't know what mark expected of me. I have never been much good at drinking games and i like the realization that the games we played as children were so based in probability....but apparently, my probablility skillz were failing me. evidently, i had other things on my mind because as s and you and i played, i didn't do well. i love the sound of your voice when you're feeling lucky. i love the sound of your voice when you're feeling like a smart ass. i love the slight slur of your words when you've had a few Rolling Rocks. I love your fingers when they move your cards around. i love the way your eyes shine in the smokey dim light. I love everything about you. for those of you who don't know how intense a game of go fish can be, i encourage you to find out. find your coveted number. ours is four. i will always want the fours. the time came for a tired s to go home and mark, who had abstained from game play, spent some time calling the plays of the game. "and now, we go to the lamp cam." I love you Mark. but eventaully, even he fell asleep and we were left to play without our announcer. we were left alone there in the smokey hotel room. we smoked cigarettes. we drank our drinks. we fought for fours. it was probably the most complexly simplex feeling in the world that i experienced. i would watch you watch your cards, i could feel your eyes on me when i looked at my own. billie holiday was ringing in my head and i hung on each line of lyric. and the light of morning began to peek from under the thick hotel drapes and i knew it was just about time for sleep as i gambled away first poland, then the fuel countries, and finally, my own best friend, the universe, and immanuel lewis. (webster never saw it coming.) no, mark. i don't have a gambling problem. i just didn't want to sleep. it had to escalate. there was no other option. i wanted to spend every moment with him that i could, even over a deck of cards. and so, we decided that it was probably time to sleep and i knew i'd have to set the alarm. i got a copy of Rage and we poured over it together and i could feel you lean close and my heart was skipping like stones on the surface of ripples of my throat. i watched my own finger scan down the list of performers for the next days events and your voice was heavy with smoke and returning sobriety and sleeplessness and it made me want to kiss you. but i didn't. and we decided on a time that would get us some sleep and i called Kind Don for a wake up call and he was very understanding as i apologized for it being so late. and then, as if you had to ask, you said: "where do you want me to curl up?" and i never even gave thought to the words that spilled forth: "with me, here." and inside i screamed: "STAY WITH ME. DON'T EVER GO. I DON'T WANT TO SLEEP HERE WITHOUT YOU." i think i did a good job relaying that in three words. and you went outside and got your bag and i hadn't even noticed that you hadn't brought it in when we first came. you went and got your bag and i slipped into pajamas and curled up in bed. i realized how tall you were then, as you stood beside the bed we'd share and i looked up at you in the silhoette you made against the cream coloured walls. i realized how tall you were and as you shrunk into the bed beside me, your eyes reflected back at me all of the light in the room...and it wasn't much but your eyes magnify it a million times. and i lay there, staring back at you, feeling my lids getting heavy but knowing that i wouldnt' sleep until i had you closer to me; until i had your hand in mine. i know my eyes felt wide and i know that i was shaking just a little bit inside and the feeling that one gets when they're an eight grader in love was over me like the blankets as i reached out and held your hand. i wanted to hold you. i wanted to be held. you obliged me without me having to say a word. i had fallen for you that morning when i saw you through the peep hole but i don't think you realize to what extent. i'm not sure that you know what entwining my fingers with yours did to me. i'm not sure that you realize how sound my sleep was when i was in your arms. and i'm not sure that i remembered or even realized it as you kissed my forehead but it came to me in waves as i woke. i don't remember falling asleep. i'm not sure that you even realize that i was up for minutes before you and i'm not sure that you realize that you didn't wake me. i had gotten up to the stuffiness of stale smoke and the leftover warmth of the night we'd spent before. i turned on the air conditioning to circulate the stagnent air and i went in the bathroom for a moment, too. i'm suprised you didn't wake to the sound of the woooooosh that was the toilet or the duet sound that was the faucet. i climbed back in bed with you and watched you sleep there in the morning light before i curled up closer to you, wrapping my arm around your side and holding your hand there in mine. in your sleep, you accomodated me and i fell easily back to sleep next to you for what didn't seem nearly long enough and when i woke again, you were climbing back into bed. i could smell the toothpaste and i was warmly amused. "there's a glass of water there next to the bed" you said. it was an unreal surreal feeling you put in me then. and i know that it was the most simple thing in the world, to you, probably....but to me, it meant so much. and when i drank from the plastic hotel cup, i felt the dryness of the previous days smoking swallow up as my cells hydrated once again. i didn't thank you enough. and so, there we were, the last to sleep the first to rise and mark snoring and drooling and making sweet mark sounds in his sleep in the bed next to ours. i like the sound of that: ours. and i lay my head on my pillow and watched my fingers trace over the soft skin of your hands...you have the softest hands. and i couldnt help but stare back at your eyes, watching them shift back and forth between mine and i felt my own slightly mimic yours, wanting to take every part of you into my memory. and then you said it. you say you said it when we'd first gone to sleep but i hadn't heard. i was glad you said it again. "can i kiss you?" and all i could say was yes and it blurs into slow motion for a few moments in my recollection. you moved closer and i moved closer and as our lips met, i could have choked on my heart. you are the best kisser i've known. you kiss sweeter than any girl and with the gentleness that i've never known in a boy and that is a wonderful thing to me. i could kiss you for hours... and after the first kiss and after i had your hand in mine, i could have floated for days had it not been for physics. and i kissed you and we smiled and you kissed me and we smiled. i have a thing for your lips. as we lay there, i felt for the first time as though i really understood Giotto's paintings with the halos that make into hearts. the light that was seeping from you and the light from mine must've glowed yellow. I was Anna. You were Joachim. But really, i was just me and you were just wonderful. and mark woke to the sounds of slurping he says. i felt bad for a few moments but its like you said: we really did think he was sleeping. We easily returned to the way of socializing and played some video games on the hotel television. we smoked. we listened to music. i hadn't intended to cry in front of you and i hope you know that. i thought that i'd left the grief of the days past in the small town i'd come from. but as sarah sang that song that i'd forgotten i wanted to listen to, i couldn't hold the tears that came back and i want you to know what it meant to me that you were there. i want you to know how incredibly strange i felt and comforted at the same time. i hadn't meant to bring that into our weekend and you were so wonderful about it and i want you to know that it meant so much. we showered and we headed back to nashville, the three of us. i wasn't sure if you were going to hold my hand and so, i reached across the console and took yours instead. i didn't want to wait. i dind't want to wonder. we made it in time to see most of Cheap Trick and then, enjoyed the Cult. That kirsten hirsh song that you like so much is from the same disc that i first heard the cult. i only knew a few songs, but i loved watching you watch. as he threw his tambourine and swung his microphone, i watched him carefully. performers will always intrigue me. i watched mullets and another little boy who was no loel but who was just as entertaining dance. i felt a ripple of the wave that had hit me just the day before and now that i held your hand with ease, i squeezed it. someday, i think i'd like for that to be us. when we left, i finally felt as though i could have eaten. we looked for chinese resteraunts after we called for s to meet us. there were none open. it was, after all, sunday night. and so, we opted for friday's with their office space flare and stereotypically irritating staff. our server was no exception with his leather pants and his "i was JUST about to say that!" i had a strawberry banana colada, mark an electric lemonade, and you, a margarita with no salt. but you got salt, didn't you? it didn't take much to make me drunk and i felt my sobriety slip from me rapidly. i felt the words coming out of my mouth. i felt your hand in mine. i felt like i couldn't sit still. i felt like i couldnt' stand up. we ate and i had the matchbox 20 of a server box up my food and send it off to the hungry kids with the bloated bellies. i hope they like jack daniels in a sauce even if you> don't. we rode home, and as much as i enjoyed the sound of your voice mixing with mine as we sang along to the tapes i'd made you a month ago, i was loving the funny way that you "pimp" and in my intoxication that came with the second strawberry banana colada with a great big strawberry drink, i made up ridiculous lyrics with ease. BIG PIMPIN', DENTISTRY. I am forever an idiot. I like that you can laugh at me like i can laugh at me. And so we got to the Red Roof Inn in question and met an irate and worried S who'd been waiting for some time. I remember stealing a kiss from you while mark hopped from the car to greet s. I could taste the margarita on your lips. i like stealing kisses from you. we went inside and i don't think that i could have sat up for very long and i curled up with you, feeling your warmth in the overly chilled room and the four of us talked until S was adorable and kind and sweet and stole mark away to the new walmart. its a superwalmart, but even that big a hellmouth doesn't call for a late night visit. i want to thank you, mark and s...for being amazing. and when they'd gone, we finally got that dance i'd so looked forward to. i had wanted to stop you there at the war memorial on the way back to the car the night before but didnt have the courage. i had wanted to dance with you there on the marble stair before the stone eyes of statues and under the misty moon but instead, we just kept walking. and it was just as well because it wasn't our billie holiday that was playing. and now, here...it was. and i stood and it was ackward at first, but as words spilled from your mouth in that voice that i love, you made me speechless. you made me feel special and beautiful and needed and wanted and loved. you made me feel spectacular and extraordinary. you made me feel like i mattered. i didn't know what to say to you...for fear of seeming to return the favour. it was just as well that i was so speechless....i never would have found the words to describe what you do to me. finding words takes me time, sometimes....i hope you could see it in my eyes. and we danced there for what didn't seem like the hour that mark said they'd been gone. we danced and i kissed you and you kissed me and it was all i needed in the world. when they came back, the time for bed came. i donned my sleepclothes again and we curled up there in the darkness and my voice felt gruff and dry and nearly gone as i told you i loved you...as i told you the way i'd been feeling since i peeped through the hole in the door...since i'd hugged you...since we shared a spoon at the waffle house...since we'd heard soup...since i'd brushed grass from your back...since we played cards and i lost...since i first held your hand...first kissed you....since i was able to look into your eyes so comfortable. i told you i love you and i mean that. i hope you understand that. when i tell you i love you, its like she said: "when i'm with someone, i'm one hundred percent...monogomous." know it. believe it. i love you. those moments in the darkness drew out into morning and the wake up call came entirely too soon and i would have done anything for fifteen minutes more beside you but you had to work and we had to be going. i walked you to your car and things seemed to stand still. i wanted to cry but i couldn't...not in front of you...not when i knew i'd see you again. i couldnt' stop hugging you. i couldn't break away. i couldn't stop kissing you or telling you that we'll make it work. i couldn't stop letting you know that i'll do anything it takes to make this work....its like i told you the night before: i love you. and so, i got my things from your car but, in the longing of the moments, forgot mark's cd. i'm jealous that you'll know all of the words before i do. and i watched you drive away and waved goodbye and my arm felt heavy with a saddness that i knew won't last forever. i watched your car turn the corner and went inside. i cried as i showered, knowing that when i came out of that steamy room, you wouldn't be there. i woke mark and lay there on the bed that we'd shared while he showered. i could still smell the sweetness of you that is something soft like baby powder and sweet like sifted powdered sugar....i could still smell you on my pillows and while mark was in the shower, i cried slow tears, remembering everything about you: your beautiful eyes, the way you make me laugh, that adorable thing yo do with your eyebrow, your voice, the softness of your skin, the warmth that eminates from you. i cried and put it away, then....because i will see you again. we got on the road. we stopped at a cracker barrel. we drove til the sun was setting and cooked out in the rain. we are invinceable. mark took with him thoughts of s. i took my thoughts of you. when we rolled back into town mark said: "its still there." and the city loomed before us and i tried to see it as you will see it someday: new and beautiful there in the misty rain at night, aglow with corporate lights and buildings that reach for the sky and seem to hold it up; seem to keep it from toppling down on us here. and i was home and you were back in nashville and i miss you. i miss you horribly. i can sometimes conjure up the chills you give me when i think of your kiss. i can only sleep when i remember what it was to sleep beside you. and you when i ponder my love for you, i can really feel alive. you make me love you. you make me feel alive. i want to thank you for everything you gave me that weekend. i want to thank you for the things you continue to give me. i wanted to tell you i love you. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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