For Anyone Who Has Loved a City

Sometimes, sudden shocks of nostalgia overtake my entire body. It happened so slowly but surely; very similar to how one familiarizes themselves with every mark on a lover's skin and all the quirks they can't even see in themselves. I will never forget the feeling that washed over me the first time I walked on the Longfellow Bridge. I was 18. Dan and I had gotten sushi in Somerville (I wonder if that place, my favorite sushi place in MA is still there) and then decided to walk for a while instead of hopping on the T.

We knew if we walked straight down Mass Ave we'd hit Harvard, then Central Squares..When we got to Harvard Square we stopped in a park at the gardens. We got a little bit stoned...it was one of those crisp, clear, cool, autumn days where physical sensations abound; the sun warming your skin- immediately followed by a light breeze playfully chasing it. I remember watching squirrels and tourists, laughing at the hurried antics of both..feeling the blades of rich green grass between my toes and admiring the brilliant autumn hues New England is known for. The trees were showing off as a peacock would that day.. oh the colors!!

We walked to Central Square, where there were mobs of people filling the sidewalk. It looked literally ready to burst at the seams as people were multiplying exponentially onto the street. There was a subway fire underground, the T wouldn't be working for a few hours. Ahhhh Boston and the good ol' T. One day it's 20 minutes late, the next it's 10 minutes early and goes express, the next day there is a fire and it's out of order.
As soon as we realized we'd have to walk or take a cab we suddenly got giddy with excitement. We hadn't been ready for our day to end. I'd never walked further than Central Square.

...Before we knew it (time passes too fast with good company) we'd arrived at The Bridge. I'd never walked it, only taken the train that uses it as a shortcut to Cambridge. We stopped dead in our tracks when we reached the middle.
Behind us was Cambridge, in all its bustling, yet quaint splendor. In front of us was the Boston skyline. To either side was the river; sailboats dotted the water that looked bluer even than the azure autumn sky.
I stood there transfixed for a good 20 minutes. Turning around from time to time, I took it all in- it is a view I can still conjure up as clearly as I saw it that day. The marijuana's effects had faded to almost nothing, all that remained was the bone-deep calm that follows a good joint and a good walk in good company. The calm allowed for the beauty to sink in heavier than any sensation I'd felt before. When we resumed our journey home I felt changed.
I knew that I'd fallen in love.

This Season...

autumn chill i crave the ember of a glowing cigarette
coffee- black, and some leaves to crunch through
hair to match the drink that warms my hand
and straightens out its own bends, so unlike me

a mass of people so colossal there are no faces
or features to distinguish beautiful from ugly
the energy emitted surrounds them in a cloud
only i can feel.

bridges may break, they always burn
when kept to my watchful eyes
with one false step the structure sways
the lows offset the highs

If The World's At Large Why Should I Remain?

The song "World at Large" by Modest Mouse is one of the most fitting descriptions of my inner workings I've ever heard / read. I wish I wrote it. It does make me feel better to know I'm not the only one who feels the way the song describes.

"I like songs about drifters, books about the same, they both seem to make me feel a little less insane" ha, see?!

It's almost akin to the feeling I would get when I was 17; reading Kerouac and wondering why his books didn't seem to resonate so clearly with most of the people I know.

I'm unsure of what it is I'm looking for, and I wonder if I've already missed it. If it was comfort, love, and stability I sure as hell passed it up in favor of the unknown. The prospect of adventure, however small-scale it may be is way more appealing.

I don't feel as if I inadvertently left a near-perfect life behind. The contrary; I've felt better overall since leaving what I did.

Slowly, the realization has hit me; it comes down to people vs. places vs. things.

What to do when every piece of the puzzle fits perfectly, the puzzle's almost totally complete- save for one missing piece. And you know exactly where the piece is but to retrieve it you'd have to forget about the rest of the puzzle. Is that one piece more valuable than the junction of all the rest?
I honestly don't know, I can't decide. I could spend an entire lifetime undecided.

Is this what growing older is supposed to be like?

I'm With Conor.

"I believe that lovers should be tied together
Thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather
Left there to drown
Left there to drown in their innocence"

Good Things

-being surrounded by upbeat, positive people
-my kitties
-living in a temperate climate ( while this summer has hardly been summery, 70 degrees & overcast is still, in my opinion, better than blizzards or 95 degree weather with 85 percent humidity. Also, I can't complain after all of Feb, March & April's beach days...)
-good bands, good shows
-stand up comedy
-new tattoos
-a laid-back job
-living in possibly my favorite neighborhood/community of anywhere, ever
-relaxing with my guitar
-freshly dyed black hair
_____________________________________________________________________________

A lot of copying, a little inspiration

Part of growing older is learning to forget
Part of moving forward is paying off your debts
I moved to where the sun sets, lays its head to rest
Neither one to blame here, I'll always second guess