Back to the first days I heard Mingus and Sonny and read the beats after reading the French, and even before I heard the sounds of the up all night oh yeah man, this is going down and we’re going to make it happen days; back to those back then days and nights, and where? I don’t know man, just back then and there, to those down there blocks and streets and expensive college books, and man, who the hell was he? Who was I? How did I even get there?
I only remember that I was walking away. I told her that. I said, I’m walking away, and those were my exact words, and before, trying to remember, well there wasn’t really anything. No love, notta, and there wasn’t, how do you….well oh… um, it was, as you say…
…There wasn’t any cares in the world, only moments, just youth man, you know, ah fucking ahhh-haaa!
Can’t really place it, and was it when she looked sad? Was it then that I loved her?
Yes. No. I don’t know. Kinda, and it was then that the dance started, my baby steps into adulthood if you will, and for the first time in my life I heard the song of romance, and the act was on. The what-have you days- of this ongoing existence thing goes as follows:
I love you she said. I thought you were leaving…
No. Yeah. I mean. Nothing. I don’t have anything else to say.
Don’t leave she said
Ok. Likewise I said
What?
I love you as well, but…
But?
I have to go. For a second. Be back. I need to walk. I won’t go. I’ll be back in the morning. Ok?
K…she said
And yeah, I came back in the morning after walking to the biggest bridge in town, taking off my shoes and jumping, falling stickman into the water below, and it was great, a great feeling, falling down and knowing you won’t die, can’t die, possibly could die, because of the concrete remains from the old bridge that were still down there.
The threat of a cops scolding, a senior year grounding, and the Posted No Diving signs by the bridge under lights next to the rich human homes, and everything was, I don’t know, so silent. There wasn’t any of the regular drinking and driving speed boats on a lake that they polluted so damn much that the whole area has its own distinct smell. There wasn’t anything else, only me. There was only…
Falling, and I didn’t dive, like i said, I did me a stickman, and like an act of levitation I started to swim back up, kicking my feet in water, propelling up towards the air even before my head went below sea level.
Where is his mind you may ask? It was, back then, still waking up.
Stars (click on picture for if you care to learn more about what this is all about. Warning: Be careful.)
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Adventures In American Writing 