July 25, 2013 § Leave a comment
Young people are fickle. People are fickle but young people especially. We find ourselves down there. Way down there. All the way. Spending untold time in the depths of the deepest darkest places in our minds. Fickleness finds us here, it leaves us here, it’s always on the around. From the depths it’s those wide eyed, blood pumping, arms out stretched in the dim light highs. The ones where we feel like it’s possible. All of it. Every imagined heart beat. Every strutting glance. Every pulse and smile in a short skirt. Every run at hope. Every miss seems worthwhile. Every sleepless night. Every fuck, every hangover, every single empty bag and bottle. It all makes sense again. It all feels warm and steep, on the way up. “Jets, in my shoes man.” As the night takes hold. The dim light. A solid beat. Hold tight.
Stuff like that gets in your blood and stays in your bones. It shapes the way you grow. I guess. But what the hell do I know? It’s all out loud really. Thoughts. Thinks. Thinks across a page.
A child once asked me how I make money so that I can “buy toys”. Who told him how I spend my money, I have no idea. But regardless, in the moment before the answer left my mouth I decided that simply telling him “I’m a writer” would not impress him, and if I can’t impress a child than who can I impress? No one. So I took a second, I got down to his eye level, and whispered ” I make blank pages disappear ” And with that, I was gone. Leaving the awe struck child to simply stand there trying to remember to breathe, the moment forever stamped on his brain as the second he decided that he when he got tall he too would fight the vast emptiness of blank pages. Or so I like to think.
I like to think a lot of things. I guess. I’m not sure. I don’t know. What I’m trying to say is, be magic. Burn like magic. People will remember you. And, more importantly they will smile.