"dad...?" i asked.
"what, son?"
"i want you to tell me some things."
"like what?" it comes out in a strange northerrn minnesota/southern floridian accent. not strange to me, but if you think about it then yeah, it's strange.
"well, i don't really know much about you..." i say.
"yeah. you don't." and he laughs an odd belly laugh. muted though. a lot like me if you ever get the chance to see.
he goes off on a longish/shortish rant about his youth. how his mom was secretly but not secretly plotting against him with his step-father. i may eventually know, and i may not. had it gone his way he'd have been able to pay for my college out of his wallet. somewhere in the neighborhood of $911,000 was stolen from him, so he says. i may know, and i may never know.
"dad... have you ever had your heart broken?" i've been meaning to ask him this for a very long time, but without skipping a beat he says
"OH yeah. yeah, yeah. i have, yeah."
"i want you to tell me about it." he doesn't know it yet, but i'm rather choked up about even asking. his honesty on that surprises me, though it likely should not.
and he tells me the first two girls he ever dated were very pretty young things and they had boy nicknames. if you know me well, you'll understand that that's significant.
all in all the conversation helped. not sure why though. i guess it's just nice to know that i'm not the only one in my family this has happened to. marked tragic, but we don't talk about it between each other.
*
i've been hanging out with some wonderful cats and kittens lately, and it's helped a lot. takes my mind off things. makes me realize without having to be told, that there are certain conversations i'm not meant to have. some things can't be salvaged, but that doesn't mean the wreak is a loss.
save the good times in a jar. put it in a box underneath my bed. keep the memories because they're mine and no one else's.
*
interpol was great. FUCKING. GREAT.
spent some time jumping around and pissing off fellow attendees. always a good time, sometimes a great one. girl blew smoke in my face. thank you you heartless stupid stupid girl. you fucking bitch. stay out of the front rows.
either way, they were playing just for me. and i knew it.
"why can't we just look the other way?"
that was the line that sums up in a course tangent my most beautiful and miserable moments in the last two and a half months. it was amazing to sing it with them watching me sing it with them.
and then they hung out at emily's. and NO ONE fucked them. even *I* would have fucked them. GAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
still... the night was beautiful.
"what, son?"
"i want you to tell me some things."
"like what?" it comes out in a strange northerrn minnesota/southern floridian accent. not strange to me, but if you think about it then yeah, it's strange.
"well, i don't really know much about you..." i say.
"yeah. you don't." and he laughs an odd belly laugh. muted though. a lot like me if you ever get the chance to see.
he goes off on a longish/shortish rant about his youth. how his mom was secretly but not secretly plotting against him with his step-father. i may eventually know, and i may not. had it gone his way he'd have been able to pay for my college out of his wallet. somewhere in the neighborhood of $911,000 was stolen from him, so he says. i may know, and i may never know.
"dad... have you ever had your heart broken?" i've been meaning to ask him this for a very long time, but without skipping a beat he says
"OH yeah. yeah, yeah. i have, yeah."
"i want you to tell me about it." he doesn't know it yet, but i'm rather choked up about even asking. his honesty on that surprises me, though it likely should not.
and he tells me the first two girls he ever dated were very pretty young things and they had boy nicknames. if you know me well, you'll understand that that's significant.
all in all the conversation helped. not sure why though. i guess it's just nice to know that i'm not the only one in my family this has happened to. marked tragic, but we don't talk about it between each other.
*
i've been hanging out with some wonderful cats and kittens lately, and it's helped a lot. takes my mind off things. makes me realize without having to be told, that there are certain conversations i'm not meant to have. some things can't be salvaged, but that doesn't mean the wreak is a loss.
save the good times in a jar. put it in a box underneath my bed. keep the memories because they're mine and no one else's.
*
interpol was great. FUCKING. GREAT.
spent some time jumping around and pissing off fellow attendees. always a good time, sometimes a great one. girl blew smoke in my face. thank you you heartless stupid stupid girl. you fucking bitch. stay out of the front rows.
either way, they were playing just for me. and i knew it.
"why can't we just look the other way?"
that was the line that sums up in a course tangent my most beautiful and miserable moments in the last two and a half months. it was amazing to sing it with them watching me sing it with them.
and then they hung out at emily's. and NO ONE fucked them. even *I* would have fucked them. GAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
still... the night was beautiful.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
whee whos the cute blonde in the background pie?
haha
*shrug*
I am certifiably fucking bonkers. Oh well
I wonder what to say to the above stuff.
le sigh. Wish I knew.
At least you got to enjoy interpol