I spent 10 hours out yesterday cruising in Tacoma with someone who I hadn’t heard from in 2 years. Crazy to think in this season of high school stories coming to a close that I have been graduated for I think exactly 2 years. Most people would have a degree by now, but most people also probably didn’t immediately take fun classes upon entering college.
I’ve got no regrets, as I was introduced to a few sides of someone I thought I knew pretty well back in high school. In addition, we found out that Bigfoot Java is open 24/7 and that they sell this thing that’s basically Red Bull and syrup and half and half. It’s one of the best things I have ever had.
And a lot of photos that are going to pop up on here are from yesterday. We visited a few beaches around Tacoma, from Ruston on the way up to Point Defiance all looking over Commencement Bay here in the South Puget Sound. I just threw a lot of names at ya.
It was some of the most fun I’ve had in a [indeterminate amount of time].
Usually after an experience like that I can write immediately, but this time I couldn’t. The entire past 72 hours have been a real struggle to focus on writing, between going out with people and finals and all manner of things consuming me. It’s nice, but there’s a wealth of poetry in the last three days that I’m finding difficulty in getting out. Here’s hoping it comes easy to me very soon.
With my fear of memory loss comes an attraction to getting these things written sooner rather than later, but only so much energy can be expended when you finally get home at 3:30 in the morning.
Today has been very musical for me. I’m listening to favorites such as Xilent’s “Is There Time” and Deadmau5’s “Let Go”. I’ve gotten interested in a group called Cigarettes After Sex, and they’re coming to town in September. I’ve been invited to go!
My number one favorite artist, however, Xilent, also happens to be coming to Seattle in September. My first concert going experienced happened at a venue he was slated to headline.
If I may set the scene, I hadn’t been with my then-girlfriend for a month when we drove an hour to get to this club called Studio 7, in Seattle. The place was located in SoDo, which I believe is supposed to be so gentrified that it has reversed its gentrification process somehow to make a hipster flavored slum. Warehouses everywhere, parking sparse. We waited for about 30 minutes outside in the rain while other people in fursuits and those stupid fucking LED gloves were doing their thing in anticipation. We got frisked before we went in, and when we got in it was underwhelming.
The music was so loud that it was nearly impossible to perceive it as anything but just sound. Wasn’t music at all. Just noise. The opening act was actually quite good, but fuck I really wish I could have heard it. People started pouring in, all kinds of most likely communally-minded types that wouldn’t do any harm, but I was beginning to feel unsafe. Very unsafe. Entirely uncomfortable, especially with a new girlfriend this is going to be the memory made here? Hell no.
We ended up leaving thirty minutes before Xilent showed up, and I don’t really regret it. Photos taken after we left show the venue as just a swarm of bodies seeming to surge like waves. Maybe it’s just not my crowd, and maybe that’s what I learned that day.
Or maybe I wasn’t yet 20, and maybe I haven’t learned my lesson. We’ll see.
Today I’ve been listening to Scenic’s “Mesmerised”. Lovely little throwback track by an indie group. Good for them!
And this Journal’s excerpt is from a poem called “Meyer”, written in anticipation for the events of yesterday:
“Three years later
We might just
Do it again
And see who wins”
Though this draft has those weird last two couplets that I feel are entirely out of place. Usually with pieces like this one I brood over it for a few weeks and then before I put it up here I find the drive to hammer it out some. Think that’s what I’ll do here.
Speaking of writing and shit, Advanced Writing is done. What a wonderful group of people I’ve had all spring to workshop with, and you know I don’t think I could have asked for a better group. I’m still looking for that one person to really fucking hate my work, and so no worthy challengers have yet approached.
The past 72 hours have been quite a flood of stuff. Emotion. Romance? Fuck, I don’t even know. I’ve taken a bunch of pictures and made a bunch of memories, feeling my way through this wonderful experience of life with a happy heart and so much to say.
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This whole Radio Reality City thing has been a journey. I’m so happy to see it actually start to become something. Every edit to my website, every little piece of code I learn, every swapped background photo, every new layout idea, and every new piece of good content that gets some recognition. It’s incredible. I can’t thank you all enough for giving me inspiration to keep going without even knowing.
As has been my motto lately, no expectations and no pressure. I’m entering summer with an energy that’s unbeatable by anything. Yesterday proved that correct.
Here’s to turning 20 soon, here’s to nearly a thousand poems, and all the people in my life and no longer in my life who have made all these good memories with me.
Let’s see what else we can do.