As I write this, it is late at night. It’s the time of what if, the time when the demons visit, poking me with their sharp sticks. It’s the time of memory and regret. I’m listening to one of my favorite singers.
This music I only allow myself occasionally. Her voice is beautiful, haunting. When I listen to her sing, I remember her passion, her pain, and her humanity. I remember watching her perform in my home, and I think of what almost happened. In this case ‘almost’ is about the same as the chance of Earth taking a nose-dive into the sun, but there was a moment, defined by a shared joke, that we were in the same place.
I wanted to kiss her, but for all the familiarity and alcohol we were still a thousand miles apart. Better, then, this perfect memory of perfect longing, uncorrupted by the ugly truth of the next day. Better to listen now to a voice that will always say something different to me than it does to anyone else. Better to remember her scent, her laugh, her smile, and her eyes, her eyes.
Her memory of the night is probably so different it’s comical.
But what if I had kissed her?
You would have eventually felt the Wrath of Khan!
For me it will always be “Just Like Heaven” by the Cure. Dang, I tellz ya! It sure brings back some memories. Aimless driving love lust in Lost Alamos, hopes and dashes, could be’s and didn’ts.Of course, there are a couple Interpol songs, but that’s more recent…
Kahn had already gone home by that time, and I’m pretty sure he would have been more on the “All right! Way to go, man!” side of things.
He is certainly not someone who’s wrath I would want to feel, however. He once taught unarmed combat classes in exchange for training in the use of submachine guns.
Jerry, you now have the tortured soul of a Goth. The next thing we know, you will turn in your shorts and print shirts for all black.
Haiku for a Goth Jer
All Black Hawaiian
Tucked into baggy black shorts
Black paint for the feet
Hey Jer, need me to pick you up something from Hot Topic?
I don’t even know what Hot Topic is. Plus, if I go black, it’ll be Johnny Cash black, not Morrissey black.
Although tropical black does have a certain appeal…
Okay, so I think I can recognize Goth (even Black Hot Tropic Goth), but can someone explain EMO to me? Is it as simple as ear plugs as opposed to ear rings?
Remember the good old days of easy-to-recognize peer groups as LAHS? Band Fags, Coneheads, Jocks, Loadies and Stomps. Oh, for the simple days of yore.
Johnny Cash black = way cool. Quiet, subtle, understated, very powerful.