saturday, june 15th
i never saw the riot in yr eyes
yesterday afternoon:
it’s a swelteringly hot day; it’s midsummer in the city and he’s somewhere above me now, on his way to america. at the post office i spied a bottle of lemon diet coke, and bought it right away.
he leaves england, diet coke with lemon arrives. it’s a poor trade, the fizzy rust flavoured lemon bubbles down into me and my jeans stick to my legs as i walk home alone.
today:
i’m sitting in my room listening to heartbreak records. i fell asleep as the sun began to rise, the sky turning the lightest shade of dismal blue. i listen to “there is a light that never goes out” by, forgive me, the smiths. the song sounds like the humid starlit jersey turnpike that i should be racing down with him right now. and hearing the song reminds me of how josh says that in cars he hears the sound of a crash. and if a double decker bus crashes into us to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. we’d drive around everywhere last summer, when we didn’t have a home, we just wanted to see people and we wanted to see life. it’s weird, i miss josh but i miss being with him in america more. i can smell america and my whole body should be there, where my heart is. there is a light and it never goes out. i will never stop trying to live there, with him, where i feel happiest. there is a light that never goes out. i listen to “off you” by the breeders, kim’s voice lulling me into a comforting sadness. it’s such a beautiful song. if there is anything in this world that truley heals, it is not medicene but music. i never saw the violence of you. i hate myself for always being angry, i become repentant. a lot of my mistakes i have made.
i play “les and ray” by le tigre, which always makes me cry; but these tears are hopeful tears. this thank-you song that kathleen made for her neighbours reminds me that music heals. you were my oxygen, the thing that made me think that i could escape. i listen to beautiful ben kweller singing about how “tomorrow is the first time liz can’t board my plane” and i just keep writing and stay home as my housemates are at the party across the road.
ok, so the stuff i wrote earlier today is kinda melodramatic but i'm feeling sad as well as poorly so fuck it. i am staying in all weekend, just owning this. my housemates are lovely, making sure i'm ok and we watched the football together this morning and watched england kill denmark, three nil. ben walked down the stairs just now with a record player, shrugging sure when i ask if i can use it. it's gonna be ok, guessing.
suds at