Tangerine, I'd like to see you perform. Or drive yourself to the coast with a trunk full of soap and fruit. Stolen goods from the hotel services. Drive towards me in your fucking car. Come lay down and count the number of slits on the ceiling the blinds cause from the blue safety light outside. An owl shaped mug and a pathetic attempt at reconciliation. No one knows. No one cares. Must work like a superhero today but first I must shake off the sleepless night. I am so damn tired. I don't know how I could make another show. But it's the freakin' Wonder Years! You have seen them more times than any other band. Last with NFG. Tempe. Prior somewhere in Portland I'm sure. Olympia. Tacoma. Not sure about Seattle. (The venues of old are closed and quarantined. Barely surviving our collective memory.) I'll decide later. When it is closer to show time. Otherwise I must study so fucking hard. I need proof of a deviant act. Playing the guitar in inappropriate places. What theories will I be testing? Hypothesis?
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Later in the day, about 5, I realize I did not earn my badge for the day. I will have to miss the kickass pop punk show of tonight. (Lonely Forest and Portugal. The Man next week. Okay.) This will be the first time I have chosen something else over a Wonder Years show when given an option. One of my favorites. I can't make it happen. Have to study, to perform.
Anyway. I went outside for the first time a little while ago with intentions to bring white paper to the lobby and to bring back paper with ink on it. Use their printers. But the computers were full. No room for me and my responsibility. Left a blank slate. Came back a blank slate. Half of those idiots were on facebook anyway. Frustrating. "I am just so unmotivated for schoool." says a half dressed. Half naked. Girl. With plans to get tan at sundown. Great bodies. Beautiful people. Socialized into their roles. A cesspool. Having been in my apartment, in my studies, in my own little world, all day long... I forgot where I was. I forgot what people were like. No one says hi to each other on the street here. That's weird. Weird is bad. Wired is good. Muscles and tattoos. Sunglasses and poor attitudes about sports and/or recycling. (they have too much recycling to recycle).
You were fooled man. That's your april fool's joke. Thinking you were away from it for a few hours. April fools. You are still in the hornets nest. Getting stung from all angles. Only living for lonely, self-improvement. Only a few friends. But I hate this lifestyle. That word too. "lifestyle" thanks george carlin. I can never use that word to my positive benefit. So deep in my own little world the outside, the immediate outside disappears, and I forget about how shitty everyone is around here. The cockiness projecting. The money. The filthy fucking money. The cars and rims. Volley ball. dropping classes like assholes. Fucking a.
