marin...marin was one of my two greats. the first and the best. she was the best. sharp, witty, faux-punk rock, short and tight.
the day on which i was born is more more of a holiday/event rather than a day for me to celebrate, it being 4/20 and all.
the last party we threw together...i used to rent this loft cabin out in the boondocks of scott county. right across from the elkhorn and in the middle of pasture and woods. it was notorious. a postmodern opium den filled with drugs, dogs, cats and vinyl.
so the last party we threw was a 4/20 bash. i sat in the loft spinning records smoking my hookah and watched people do what they did. we had jacked a bunch of disposible cameras and passed them around. i remember taggin' marin's camera with her tag so nobody would use it.
cut to this morning, i find this camera in the bottom of a box found at the bottom of a pile of stuff stashed away here in my storage unit. i look it over. it's in good shape. there are no pictures left on it.
cut to marin and i talking in a bar post-breakup...she casually but also very out-of-the-blue asks me about that camera, asks if i ever got it developed.
cut to a montage of my flashbacks from that particular 4/20...notice marin (conspiquously?) absent from most scenes. maybe three, four out of dozens.
splitscreen cut back to that scene of marin and i in a bar where she's jusked asked if i've developed sd film, cut also to me in the storage unit this morning roll the camera over and over in my hands. the look on the face is the same, one of strong rememberance from multiple memories. this lasts for about five seconds, until marin says "well?" and that scene pushes the other offscreen.
i tell her no, i'd lost teh camera. she, in the same manner her original query was posed except there's a bit of relief in her aura, says that it's for the best and tacks an "i guess" on the end.
cut back to this morning...i stand up and stab my cigarette out on a box with some amount of (future-tense) action and determination in the movement. turn and exit into the camera fading to black.
the black pulls back slowly to reveal it's the cursor on the screen blinking away as i type this...continue pullback as a wave of meta-textuality stays just ahead of the pullback but there are faint (matrix) effects in its wake.
the wave pushes me back into my seat but i continue to type as the pullback stops just over my shoulder (doogie howser) but the metawave continues on through reality making its affects and effects.
but yeah, marin elizabeth.
yeah, my first and best love.
i blew that one.
yep.
that aside though, this camera. i'm wondering what the hell could be on it. from the reading i got off her then, i considered a few possible exits for the reality of the camera. p0rn. incriminating photos of her cheating on me. evidence of illegal activites? photographic accounts of clandestine adventures?
but knowing marin, it's something from the far reaches of imaginative possibilites.
twentyfour moments of time and space, captured on film...i didn't think they would develop, it's been five years (?). yeah, five years. they sd at the photoshop they could get it done.
so now? now i'm waiting.
no pent up anxiety. just morbid curiousity. and strong memories.
oh, and i rebuilt my gravity bong today. that's what spurred all of this into existence. the gravity bong was brought together from listening to urge overkill last nite as i rode the marta. i bought the bowl for my gravity bong the night of a uo show in l'ville that was canceled (exit the dragon tour). i was listening to urge because they're in town friday.
w00t.
[EDIT: seven out of twentyfour developed...one pic of two frat houses, taken from her dorm room. two really dark photos of someone in her dorm, two really dark pics of my loft, and two really dark pics of ashley in the cabin with the dogs. what a fukken letdown.]
the day on which i was born is more more of a holiday/event rather than a day for me to celebrate, it being 4/20 and all.
the last party we threw together...i used to rent this loft cabin out in the boondocks of scott county. right across from the elkhorn and in the middle of pasture and woods. it was notorious. a postmodern opium den filled with drugs, dogs, cats and vinyl.
so the last party we threw was a 4/20 bash. i sat in the loft spinning records smoking my hookah and watched people do what they did. we had jacked a bunch of disposible cameras and passed them around. i remember taggin' marin's camera with her tag so nobody would use it.
cut to this morning, i find this camera in the bottom of a box found at the bottom of a pile of stuff stashed away here in my storage unit. i look it over. it's in good shape. there are no pictures left on it.
cut to marin and i talking in a bar post-breakup...she casually but also very out-of-the-blue asks me about that camera, asks if i ever got it developed.
cut to a montage of my flashbacks from that particular 4/20...notice marin (conspiquously?) absent from most scenes. maybe three, four out of dozens.
splitscreen cut back to that scene of marin and i in a bar where she's jusked asked if i've developed sd film, cut also to me in the storage unit this morning roll the camera over and over in my hands. the look on the face is the same, one of strong rememberance from multiple memories. this lasts for about five seconds, until marin says "well?" and that scene pushes the other offscreen.
i tell her no, i'd lost teh camera. she, in the same manner her original query was posed except there's a bit of relief in her aura, says that it's for the best and tacks an "i guess" on the end.
cut back to this morning...i stand up and stab my cigarette out on a box with some amount of (future-tense) action and determination in the movement. turn and exit into the camera fading to black.
the black pulls back slowly to reveal it's the cursor on the screen blinking away as i type this...continue pullback as a wave of meta-textuality stays just ahead of the pullback but there are faint (matrix) effects in its wake.
the wave pushes me back into my seat but i continue to type as the pullback stops just over my shoulder (doogie howser) but the metawave continues on through reality making its affects and effects.
but yeah, marin elizabeth.
yeah, my first and best love.
i blew that one.
yep.
that aside though, this camera. i'm wondering what the hell could be on it. from the reading i got off her then, i considered a few possible exits for the reality of the camera. p0rn. incriminating photos of her cheating on me. evidence of illegal activites? photographic accounts of clandestine adventures?
but knowing marin, it's something from the far reaches of imaginative possibilites.
twentyfour moments of time and space, captured on film...i didn't think they would develop, it's been five years (?). yeah, five years. they sd at the photoshop they could get it done.
so now? now i'm waiting.
no pent up anxiety. just morbid curiousity. and strong memories.
oh, and i rebuilt my gravity bong today. that's what spurred all of this into existence. the gravity bong was brought together from listening to urge overkill last nite as i rode the marta. i bought the bowl for my gravity bong the night of a uo show in l'ville that was canceled (exit the dragon tour). i was listening to urge because they're in town friday.
w00t.
[EDIT: seven out of twentyfour developed...one pic of two frat houses, taken from her dorm room. two really dark photos of someone in her dorm, two really dark pics of my loft, and two really dark pics of ashley in the cabin with the dogs. what a fukken letdown.]