hello sinister. sometimes, i wonder why i do it, why i go somewhere outside, and expect everything to compact upon itself and fall into my lap in a neat little bundle of happiness, chocolate-coated so that i may eat it and find all the happiness in the world suddenly inside my stomach, miraculously traveling my veins. tonight i stood on a balcony, watching a band perform below, looking at all the bobbing heads of the kids in the crowd and finding only one face down there worthy of my rapt attention. and he didn't look up at me when i was looking down, and the sheer fact of the height and distance and absence of meeting eyes was probably symbolic of something both tangible and intangible. he asked me once what color i told people my eyes were, when they weren't being pink. i told him grey, and he said good. i was five feet away from the boy who brought everything down three months ago, everything down to the most basic instincts of desire and nature. that one, who was drunk as the day is long and flaunting his new unattachment in my peripheral vision, was not the one i wanted to be close to any more. the thread between us was finally severed, and replaced with an invisible chain of smoke rings and abandoned booze. i tried to feel liberated. and from behind, as always, the one below me came up to my level, surprised me, stood there. he goes to shows like a true emo kid, standing stock still in the center of the audience, refusing whatever urge it was that gripped the rest of the usually subdued fans in a sweaty grip of upheaval. i could feel the venue shaking, pounding, and i felt as though i was dancing without moving my clumsy feet at all. i asked the one if he wanted to meet the other, and he looked at me and flatly said no. i wonder what would have happened should i have introduced them, the one knowing the hysteria breeded by the other. i was quivering between them, owning neither. and probably not owning myself, either. at some point during the show, i held a small with filter in my fingertips, the end still glowing. my friends didn't think i would actually do it, but i did, to a glorious roar of approval and disbelief. time slowed as i situated the cylinder between my fingers, paused, and let it arc over the people. the orange end hit someone's head as it fell from the balcony. cheers. glares. i laughed, and the sound rang out, harsh and moving. the walk back to my car was a solitary one, me with a square poster in one hand, the other wrapped around the strap of my bag. i walked uphill, carefully avoiding the now useless crust of ice-melting pebbles coating the pavement, mindful not to dirty my white shoes too badly. i heeded the quiet crunch beneath my feet, and gave the sound the respect it deserved. i crunched the hell out of that hill, and gave up the sound of real music for artificial answers when the cd player turned over and told me i was a modern girl. the road stretched out again, and i traversed it again, my feet in omaha and my head in lincoln. two opposing poles, with my heart somewhere in between, beating in echoed time to some as yet undeclared rhythm, waiting and waiting and waiting. i am still waiting. and waiting. and waiting. ...it must be nice to finish when you're dead...and they say california is a recipe for a black hole. and i say i've got my best shoes on. i'm ready to go... xxx, lou _________________________________________________________________ Join the world’s largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+