You ever feel like more of a concept than a human being? Ever look in the mirror and stare that bag of meat in the face and wonder where the train is heading? I’m in the Valley driving the long way through some
rough neighborhoods just to not forget their look and smell. I’m playing some new Jay-Z thinking how we both keep getting older. What is that about? I can’t decide if that is frightening or comforting. Maybe a little of both. Eventually I will be on Saticoy rehersing for another show, another spotlight another quick naked sprint down the street. We will see if they smile or frown.
A day ago I am in the desert feeling small against the size of a mountain range. I find old people in the desert dancing to Santana covers no longer depressing. They no longer seem like they are waiting to die. Perhaps I am curing my fear of anywhere without light pollution.
I’m refreshed by how fast new friendships can be made when you just let go of expectations. Someone at a bar could give you ten minutes of conversation that could change your entire existence. Think of yourself as a golf ball shot out of a cannon into a brick wall. You are always only a phone call, pop song or hallucination away from falling in love with something.
If you play a song you have just discovered with the windows open in your car, feel free to feel important. These are the grand days of your life. These as the photo opportunities you will look at later waxing, “Look at us. We were so young.”
I forgot how big New York was. I forgot what campus smells like. I forgot what desert wind felt like as it ripped the sting of unchecked sunlight off your chest. Taking a nap next to someone you love. I forgot what the wind through your ankles is like. What high school football air feels like against your arms. It all became just words. I want to wage war with my pen right now. We fight together. We’ll die that way too.