ruin it all

still haloed to crash the calm

all your friends say boston’s beautiful

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People staring at the I am a Bostonian today shirt and smoothies carton (bananas, pineapples and coconuts). I’m hardly bothered that M. decided to skip the trip and go to the wedding instead, what a waste of a Sunday for him. Hoping that she’ll text me back soon because I’m worried whether she’s fine, vaguely aware that S.’s probably still mad at me and wondering what’s an ant doing on my sneaker at the same time. I’m deep like that..

Okay, wake up, let’s go, leave the relative comfort of the damp bench. And take the headphones down, somebody is Oi!-ing at you. A boy and a girl, who seem to be fifteen or so, and she is actually hiding behind his back, which seems like a really sweet thing of her to do. And yes, they are going to the gig and have no idea how to get to the venue. Tough luck, isn’t it, to meet the least suitable person when it comes down to city orientation?

Eventually we stumbled on a map and thus it was decided that we’re on an adventure. It didn’t take that long to acknowledge that we’re moving in the right direction, so we continued. 200 yards further we had another brief discussion: shall we go back and take some notes about the route or get lost? Well, another five minutes later and we’re already lost. I’ve got a knack for it.

We ended up at the Commons, which are about twice as large as South Park, so it took me about a half of a heartbeat to fall in love with the place. In fact, I was even relieved when the cab operator thought I was making a joke and refused to send a car for us. ‘No, really, I would like a lift from the Commons to the Talking Heads, please.’ Off we go then, the path is leading us west, and I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be moving East. Oh, what a cute Golden Retriever puppie. It’s as cute as, erm, a Golden Retriever. ‘Lexy, come back!’ ‘Good doggie,’ I say repeatedly while patting her on the head and fighting off the compulsion to grab her and run for it. Everything is fine, keep smiling, wave goodbye, stop following me, please, you’re far too wonderful, and I’m, well, not well.

Then we’re passing through some tunnel and the graffiti on the walls haven’t been removed.. How untypical of today’s England.


Do I have any booze in the bag? Seriously? Not really, he smiles, gives me my ticket back, and takes a marker pencil out of his pocket for the X on the back of my hand. For some reason, ‘I’m Happy Your Grave is Next To Mine’ can’t get out of my head, while I pass by a New Bane 7″ This Summer poster. A stall with vegan cupcakes and cake. I’m content.

Mind if I check the schedule? Not at all, man. All the hardcore kids and junglists use “man” all the time, but it doesn’t sound lame anymore. Have Heart – 22:0015, 60 min. 15 minutes more to get to the station and I’m going to be half an hour late for the last train.


Fuck it. I am going to spend the night like a hobo in the park. Oh, and I ought to be at uni in the morning.


Fuck it. Deal with it. Rock’n’Roll. This is where I’m supposed to be in this very moment. Everything else is of a secondary importance, I’m not even sure if I care about the fact that I have just spent my last money on a T-shirt and am broke again. This is my therapy, my only sanity, within these walls is where I’m free; this is where I’m supposed to be, it’s one of these moments when everything is in place and the only thing you have to do is keep breathing.

Four hours later, sitting on the stage, staring at the nothingness.

Because if it’s you I love, then from you I’d walk away.
And your face:
on every leaf
of every branch
of every tree.

And then I’m rushing into the train station, jumping over the barriers, while my brain is, once again, affirming that there is no risk that’s not worth taking.


Written by ruinitall

July 20, 2009 at 7:29 pm

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