ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- we hold hands because we can, and there's no way around it. just exactly over one year ago i made my first stencil. it was two ghosts, one positive space one negative space, so if you sprayed black paint on white surface, one of the ghosts would be black and the other white. above these phantoms was the word "LISTEN". i woke up today and we went to play our first show together as Glass. the third show by that band ever, and the first as a duo. kind of depressing to have such a beautiful outdoor space, on what constitutes the first day of fall like weather, playing fun and interesting music to only a few disinterested kids and a van full of confused hare krishnas. it was fun regardless, and the day progressed in a busy and full manner from that point on. i miss all the people i believe in, wherever they're off to. these past few weeks i really have felt a strange void. possibly mostly due to not having a place of my own, or any real worked out plan. the first time it's been like this that i can't just swish back to ypsilanti and live at mom and dad's house. i really miss ypsilanti, too, and all the fun times that we had there when we thought we were having a horrible time. remember all the amazing and devestatingly ridiculous and dangerous people who were our friends and neighbors? you over in harlem, where i'm gonna be real soon.. i love you very much. here are two things you already know that you should remember and think about again at least once before you get out of bed in the morning (especially once the summer dies to let fall ride in).. 1)Friend and neighbors, that's where it's at. 2)You can always make it more later, but you can't make it less. and you, nearby on the island.. i thought about what it was like to wake up with you, and i can't remember ever waking up. or falling asleep, really, even though it was always right before midnight so we could rise with the sun. i do remember walking through graveyards, sharing apples you ate the cores of. my body reacting to nervousness with awkward noises that you made fun of. your expensive running shoes. falling asleep on the floor while you spun records i let you borrow indefinately all summer. i can remember splinters of sentences long ago borrowed, rusting into caged memories with time. i cannot remember us ever holding hands, though, or dancing in a silent place, or being anywhere that no one was except the morning, or waking up or falling asleep, or all the tenderness and truth that these things require. and today the memories that never happened make me so sad. the other night we hung out in your basement playing *****. i was **** for the first time in more than six years. i'm happy that i just think it's funny and i have better or different things to be *** or concerned about than that. we rented the first ever dvd i saw, a rap-scene parody of "The blair witch project" entitled "Da hip-hop witch". god did it suck. what parts are lies? which sections are real? listen. 04:51:10 - 2000-09-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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