I been drinking all night. I don’t feel drunk but my fingers keep hitting the wrong keys. I want to just keep typing but the red and green lines that come up on Word distract me and I have to go back and fix my mistakes. I wish life was as forgiving. I would hit the backspace button and right all the red and green lines that haunt my past. But there’s no going back in life, and hindsight is crystal clear. Just gotta learn to live with shit I guess. Fuck that! I’d rather be blind, wallowing in the bliss of my ignorance. To bad my retrospective vision is 20/20. Thank God there’s Jack to blur my vision, slur my speech, and dull the pain of my regrets. My cup is filled to the lip and I have to sip it before I pick it up or I’ll spill it all over my shirt. My hands are not to steady and I keep hitting the wrong keys. But I don’t feel drunk. All I feel is….
Dam this Jack is smooth. And the Nirvana Unplugged I’m jamming to is blue… And I swear that I don’t have a gun… Come As You Are, awesome song. Actually the whole album is awesome, one of the few that I can play through and like every song. So much emotion. The pain in his voice is about the only thing I can feel right about now. I’m not listening to music, I’m listening to a cry for help... No I don’t have a gun No I don’t have a gun… If only you didn’t have that shotgun Kirk. What a waste.
My phone always rings at the best part of the song. It’s not you. I ignore. Gotta at least get a page written tonight. But my thoughts are scattered like buckshot through Cobain's brain, and I can’t focus on the story that I’m trying to tell, it’s a gay story. I guess it’s hard to tell a happy story when I’m miserable and feeling suicidal, listening to the music of a depressed guy who blew his brains out. I’m not that good a writer to pull that off. Why are thoughts of you always crowding my head? I can’t work like this. I keep hitting the wrong keys.
I wipe the dust off the photo album. I know the memories it holds always make me feel good. I turn the pages. You are so beautiful! I’m getting all chocked up. What’s wrong with me? I looked at these pictures a million times. A guilty conscience is hard to swallow. And this Sour Mash isn’t helping to wash it down. I turn the lights off and sit alone in the dark. It’s raining outside. I open the window. The breeze flowing through the tress is calling out my name, like you used to do when I was making you fall in love. I can’t resist.
The gusts make it hard to illuminate the joint, and I have to shield the lighter from the water and wind. I do a better job protecting the flame from the elements than I did protecting your heart from me. I feel like I’m going to blow away. I hold on tight to the trees burning in my hand and take a long drag. It grounds me. The coconut palms sway and sing in their bath. The air is electric and lighting splits the sky. I run inside.
My cup is empty and I can’t find the bottle in the shadows, I don’t want to turn on the light, cause I’ll have to squint my eyes and crinkle my nose from its brilliance. Instead I flop into bed and wrap my arms around a pillow. I breathe. The rain drops drum the city. I listen. This rhythm, I heard it before.
Rainy days are made for fucking. And we skipped class to take advantage of the storm. The rhythm was the same then. I remember. We were tangled in the bed, I was lying on my back, your slim leg was sprawled over my desire, your pleasure was a lake of fire against the soft skin on the side of my stomach. Your hand caressed my face as you gently pressed your lips against mine. When you pulled away we were looking into each other. You asked me, what r u thinking about? The thoughts on my mind I didn’t want to divulge, so I sealed the gateways to my soul. You kissed me on my closed eyelids and said, can’t u see how much I love u. Then you asked if you could have my lashes. You already have my heart, leave me with something please. I hugged you and squeezed you tight. You were schoolgirl skinny, my mustache was wispy, both 16 years old. I rolled you on your back. On top I looked down at you. So beautiful! That’s when you said, I'm on another level when I'm with u. It's like God made me for u, made me to love u and to be loved by u. That’s how u make me feel when u look at me with that look in your eyes. Words that made me fall. We cuddled and kissed until our lips tingled with numbness. Yeah I still remember that beat and the unforgettable music we made a life time ago.
Copyright © Reginald Harding, 2010