Streetlight Records. San Jose. CA. 2010.
Danced by the pale moonlight. Hiked by the light of stars and moon. Drove through the blackest night. And urban camping in the streets of the city… the other night.
Traveled among friends and new friends. Camped beneath a streetlight. Among a group of many nomads braving the unknown for something known. Drank blue energy that makes talking fast and laughing faster. Random strangers ask the same questions and leave noises into the night to mark their passing. Listened to a man talk that didn’t speak English or anything that resembled language but understood we all didn’t want what he was selling. Passed a howling (shoeless) woman… [that stood outside your door.] Had a random conversation that changed but never ended while Interpol was in the air. Coins and outdoor outhouses aren’t outdated. Hot chocolate and a kind conversation is breakfast at 7:11 at 711. And I’ll take two pincher bugs with my soap and recycled water, please. Thank you. Lunchtime hour comes and goes along a road named Story. Teenagers carrying knives in cop cars are all fine and dandy while there are long lines where the color of your bracelet gets you in first. Serenaded by two lovely sirens singing songs about girls that remind me of boys I used to know because perception is in the mind. Shuffle the music nonstop through the back to back cars. Chase day with a little more day to watch a battle and songs beneath the friday night white lights before ending the never-ending day.
-m.
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