There are all sorts of different families, Katie.
Some live in separate homes
and neighbourhoods
in different areas of the country.
They may not see each other for days,
weeks, months or even years at a time.
But if there’s love, dear,
those are the ties that bind.
And you’ll have a family in your heart for ever.
All my love to you, poppet.
You’re going to be all right.
Bye-bye.
-Mrs.Doubtfire
It’s nice to stay in one place for…well, more than a few hours. It feels sort of odd to me, sort of psyches me out. But it is something- as much as it scares me- that I could get used to.
I’m on Oneida Lake. Not so much on it, as across the street and behind the garage of its south shore. I’m at the first annual Black Point Road block party and, with the timeless summer breeze and classic late afternoon sun, I might forget just where I was… if a partier didn’t proudly shout it out every 6 minutes: “First annual!” I was invited, but I am not expected- and I can hardly blame anyone but myself for that. I’ve been avoiding situations like this for the entire year; its safety and stillness remind me too much of what it’s like to feel like you belong. To feel like they’ll never let you go. I prefer that memory stays scabbed. Yet as I try to position myself on the patio furniture, I cannot deny the way people here just welcome you. And you don’t have to do a thing; it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. This world, so strikingly opposite from where I feel comfortable, makes me feel lucky- lucky and nervous to screw it up. But the DJ plays “Build Me Up Buttercup” and that makes me smile; feeling a little closer to the boy and the confidence that that song reminds me of. As the second chorus hits, I leave the patio chair and wander onto the lawn.
They’re playing Can Jam, and I sense this is just how it should be: childhood friends mixed in with friends who seem like they’ve been around for much longer than they actually have. A sample of each is teamed up with one of the sisters; if you live on Black Point Road- or anywhere in Madison, Oneida, or Oswego County- you know which sisters I am talking about. This is when my pen comes out.
Every time I look over, the younger of the sisters is on the ground. She’s laughing at what I can only assume is herself, rolling around in the grass like no one has ever discovered the cause of allergies. Whenever she misses a toss she hurls herself to the ground in tragic hilarity, and yet to my great astonishment… She never spills her drink. Never. I’ve lost count of how many times her party cup has been refilled but her balance- at least in her wrist- is unwavering. A girl after my own heart, I think to myself.
She looks her prettiest with baggy sweatpants on and her sunglasses pushed up on top of her head. She goes commando in her New Kids on the Block tee, and like her shirt, she is freshly classic to me. Always the punk of the party, always the girl who embodies what I would consider “life.” I’m certain if I looked up ‘zest’ in the dictionary, her picture would be there. She’d probably be making a fish face, or crossing her eyes. Tiffany is the prettiest girl I have ever known.
He loves her. When Can Jam is over the two of them continue playing games based loosely around personal jokes. I sit there in the grass watching them, feeling instinctively as if I should avert my eyes. A wish floats by, white and puffy in the wind off the lake, and I think it must be his.
The baby sits with Gramma while the older sister sings Billy Joel up on the makeshift stage. I look at him, silently asking what he thinks of his mom’s voice, and I swear he nods amused and proud- as if already wise to her theatrical tendencies. I laugh, feeling we’re on the same page. He winks at me.
The disc changes while my eyes are locked on my paper and suddenly I hear them- both sisters frantically screaming my name to join them onstage. Without thinking twice I leave the pencil behind and run towards the microphone… three things that would never, never happen in my other world. We dive smolderingly into “Don’t Stop Believin’” and we sing like we’re sure no one has ever performed this song quite as accurately in the history of karaoke. Now that I’m sober, I’m quite sure that is wildly false.
“What should my nickname be?”
“Margot!”
“Nooo…”
“Shawty!”
“Yes.”
I sit back down as the generation one step above me takes the mic for “Mustang Sally.” For a minute I think I’m at the Crazy Donkey, perched on a barstool scribbling notes for a review. The block partiers go on in their hooded sweatshirts screaming nearly off-key notes. As part music critic I can’t believe how much I like this performance, as an old friend I can’t believe they’re really not that bad.
“Out here it’s like I’m someone else.”
Then they sing “American Pie,” and the citronella candles burn and my memory flickers with them. And the partiers laugh, at some inside joke that everyone knows but me. I remember that I have been gone, but I don’t feel sad about it. They drink by fire light, love by lake breeze, and they are happy. Would I be?
“Sean, get up there with them!”
“No.” he pouts, “I wanna do Poison.”
And I wish I could bring you with me. All of you; all the Streetlighters, all the bands I’ve been around, all the- Nates I’ve met. I wish you were here to see this. Maybe that’s what I need to learn; that part of me is always going to want to stay and leave at the same time. So I sit back on the patio chair and chew on the ice at the bottom of my cup. They go into “Free Fallin’” and I make a vow to find it. Find a way to make the earth move, to make worlds collide.
The younger sister steals the baby from his bouncer and swears me to secrecy before dipping his toes in the pool when her older sister’s back is turned. The baby starts blaring, and so does Mom:
“If he gets cancer, it’s your fault. Chlorine is a carcinogen!”
“Nik, everything is a carcinogen,” I reason.
“I don’t care! Tiffany sucks.”
…We’ve had this exact exchange before, although last time I believe it was over Tiffany using all Nicole’s bobby pins at our dance recital.
…Tera.
Got this from Ms. Allison’s blog, and honestly it just made my day. Mine was all super amazingly true haha. Do it and then make a mix CD of your songs, Check her out- http://allllisonn.tumblr.com/
1. Put your iPod on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY” YOU SAY?
Lost In Stereo -All Time Low
WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Backseat Drivers -The Fold
WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
Drop Top -Mercy Mercedes
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE PURPOSE?
So Much Love -The Rocket Summer
WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Breathe In -Hit The Lights
WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
My Last Mistake -I Call Fives
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
If -Janet Jackson …lol, yeah that sounds like me.
WHAT IS 2 + 2?
The Timing -This Condition
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Fortunate Son -Creedence Clearwater Revival
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Close To Me -Summer Set
WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Dakota -A Rocket To The Moon …! :-0
WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Stronger -Kayne West
WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Penny & Me -Hanson
WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Hey Six -Patent Pending
WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Losing It -NeverShoutNever …hahahahaha
WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
“Long As I’m Here With You” -Thoroughly Modern Millie Soundtrack, I mean…probably <3
WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Your Biggest Fan -NeverShoutNever
WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
30 Seconds Of Silence -Patent Pending LOL. I’ll never tell.
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
Your Love -Pull The Pin
WHAT’S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Pretty Girl -Sugarcult
HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Miracle -Paramore
WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Growing Up -The Maine
WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Roll With It -Steve Winwood ….I Love. this surveythingy.
WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
August Is Over -We The Kings
DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
You’re In Love -Wilson Phillips ….figures lol
IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Holiday In The Sun -Sex Pistols
WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Light Up The Sky -Yellowcard <3
WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Bigger Than Love -My Favorite Highway
Saturday, Sept. 4th
Vibe Lounge, Rockville Centre NY
1pm-3pm
……there’s a Starbucks across the street from the club, we’ll meet there do our thingg!
*immediately following doors open for an awesome show at Vibe with my good friends SET IT OFF, so anyonee that can stay and rock out with me, that’d be stellar!!
Sunday, Sept. 5th
McCarren Park, Brooklyn NY
1pm-3pm
*meeting spot tba
Monday, Sept. 6th
Stroudsburg, PA*
*come to the show at Sherman Theatre. We’ll chat there : )
I was reminded of a few things today, and they were- impressively- gathered under my own self guidance. If you’ve known me in this year then you understand why such forwardness (however wispy it may be) is strikingly definitive. I have been somewhere where someone couldn’t trip me hard enough to fall on good advice, but today… was another matter.
You have to ask yourself which kind of person you are.
I’m not the kind who is going to resolve. It’s not enough for me to save myself and so therefore, I probably never will. It is a choice perhaps not so hard to grasp if you consider when my heart I truly at rest: when something I stirring. When we are on the brink of beginning. When I have something to say and someone to tell it to. In this way, I will never be alone. And that will have to be enough.
There are times when I only see that which is not there; when the images that spoo my nights step out into the jeopardy before me. For that I envy them. If only I could haunt as they haunt me, then the story could really end. For it is not power I am hungry for, it’s chain reactions. And metamorphosis. It’s necessity.
I don’t believe I was brainwashed. I believe I was given the ability to feel beyond that at hand, to know it was wrong and to choose to live on. I believe I am obliged to pass that on to as many people as will accept the heavy opportunity. Ignorance is not something that can be re-attained. And you have to choose for yourself. To choose is to become a sort of author, and to write is to give up on love. To let everything go on without you. And in return you get to know stronger forms of it all to storm the world with. We have to storm, my darlings.
They can never hurt you again.
Yes, tonight will be a very difficult night indeed, for I have carelessly allowed vamp to seep into my sights. The sights that tonight cease to belong to only something else besides me. Tonight, the definition of a movement. Tonight the eve of that which is always supposed to happen.
… .
(via ohthiskid)
I can’t take this. I can’t do this everyday. Any day. In my head, I shouldn’t be writing this because new people will be reading the blog today, and new people don’t understand why I can’t take it anymore. But. My head didn’t get me into this mess.
Everytime I find something still, something that might be good for me, you speak up. finally. I beg you to speak up but you wait. you wait till I do not want to hear it. Till I cant handle hearing it. And then the questions, the looks, the. noises. Why can’t they go away. Why can’t you make them go away? Why won’t you. It must be my fault; letting such things get to me as broken paragraphs and confirmations of things I knew. 2 years ago. But. I always keep a fan on. Because it calms me down, and because it makes things blow away. Fan. Red couch. Breathe?
He doesn’t need a diagnosis; there is nothing wrong with him. And as for me, only I’m allowed to call me crazy. So either step forward and be ready to swing, or back the fuck off. You don’t know the person I’m talking to. Jaded. Every rock breaks.
Dear Streetlighters, I am pissed off. but I knew that when I woke up. I guess it’s better than feeling nothing at all. PS- i know you read it.
T.
