SEPTEMBER 30, 2009 • LITTLE FIVE POINTS, GEORGIA

it started.

like everything else in our digital lives, it started with a photon. a beam of light tearing from a tiny diode and with it, a chime.

the race was on, we separately worked to eventually intertwine. in that unique air of the early fall the sky was still burning blue, immaculate. the sun stood gentle behind, pushing onward. forward.

i would run off to ensure we were prepared, you offered me tea and i obliged, it felt special putting my lips where yours once rested. we went inside and stole away a cache for the trip.

i bought you cigarettes while you smiled. — i never figured out what compels you to smoke the damn things.

regardless we were on the clock and running, so we ran from the sun, onward ever lasting to the perhaps that lied due west. our path beset between green kudzu and tree growth. their cells played witness as we flew through on a birds wing. on time and ever running late.

the conversation reviewed the days before and the day to come. that always comes easy, even when awkward it flows effervescently. ever the feline you curled yourself to form fit the passenger seat, made comfortable in the circumstances and rode along.

riding into it’s arteries we sped, i moved quickly to appreciate every microsecond of time, not just there but with you. approved. with me.

such is the cost of the runner, our rhythm beats quick, every second is felt deeply, minute measurements of moments felt as overdrafts on the luxury of time.

a digression. we sped, fleeing the occupation of what lies ahead, rapidly ever constant, i turned the roads into a playground and did my best to become adolescent in my childish game of reaching home base. we pushed deeper into the metropolis and i watched you apply make up in a mirror, highlighting your lashes and i reiterated to you that with or without, you were gorgeous.

you scoffed at this remark. had you heard them a thousand times before in flirtation? perhaps you don’t appreciate that i speak them in earnest. quite simply just that, earnest.

regardless, i nervously steered. hyperconscious of every bump now, for want to hiccup a spring could ruin your application and i had never navigated in such a circumstance.

and then, we were there, i took my paraphernalia and you immediate began to tease me about it. i, out of some compulsion i always retort sarcastically. calling your bluffs,

admitting to your jests, exaggerating the punchline and i can tell on each individual occasion that even now you aren’t used to someone like me.

you don’t quite know how to take it. it’s new. you aren’t sure if you like it or not but it is new. you shield yourself off explicitly and i see that as well, but know better than to mention it.

we walk, you and i both and like all occasions i turn to see you. there. with me. for whatever compels you to do so, i can’t fathom.

i ]see you under a sky blue enough to be under appreciated and the soft air of fall at the bend, i am aware of these things but still for those three and four fifths seconds (again the plight that is a runner’s sense of time) there is only the frame of your face, the majority of which lies behind your sunglasses, the breeze a flutter in your hair and your scarf that lies deliberately indifferent.

Κύριε ἐλέησον..

you always respond in kind, that same method, you haven’t quite realized i just want to see you, to remind myself of the chance of this occasion.

the improbability of it.

not withstanding, my measured glimpses taking the geometry of your design and how i interpret it.

i smile by the them, the both.

we crack in through the door and beyond the sea of bodies and gardens of vinyl they perform. poetic ensembles dedicated to the memory of forgotten idols and love songs.

i gesture towards the free pizza as a redirection from the eyes on our pair. here i stand with my fandom made quite apparent and your beauty along side and you’d be sure to credit the latter after this affair.

those eyes reviewing our circumstance, the bohemians abound us distracting me from soaking it in, i’m too preoccupied with you, i’m too preoccupied being conscious of those eyes.

i feel as if i arrived and brought autumn with me and the room is left to ponder how i just accomplished such a feat.

we entertain ourselves briefly and as the crowd disperses we fight to the front for a fleeting moment, a touch with inspiration and find ourselves flanked.

beset by both sides by hordes of whores, awash in a sea of babble and trite talk. the delivery of boyfriends and the pursuit of french bands for want of a groupie’s experience. all for naught, those cutting in line, the fickleness and bothers

it didn’t matter, good bad or not. i was content to be there with you and your ribbing if only because my retort would afford me to look into your eyes.

— and just then before the voice of the band, an announcer spoke derisively towards my hopes, for want to consider other fans i could not take my time.

it could be said however, fate had a sense of irony about her and half of the quartet looked upon my allotment with shock and a hint of happiness.

it’s of note that not many had this specifically, and in tune they were more than happy to leave their mark all over, and on whatever i requested. all in the name of being a “true fan” and when they told me that, i felt my heart rate leap above 200 as if i were running wind sprints at midnight.

that rang true to my ears, thomas.

i didn’t know where to turn and i kept looking to you for insight on what to do next, i looked to you so you could document in your own eyes how much this meant. i know you could read it plainly as type face along my face, i was lost in frantic calm and interacting with inspiration and soundtrack providers for my greatest memories.

gradually we rotated around to the latter half of the band, the soul to the formers heart and it was then that laurent offered greater background on what i had than even i knew. i did my best to explain the circumstance of my appreciation.

i had flown a thousand miles to see them on principle. i had today driven two hundred miles just to see a glimpse of an acoustic set and brought this, their collaborative efforts neatly boxed.

he asked me quietly if i would be there tonight and i explained that I, no we both couldn’t. there were no more tickets.

i apologized profusely for not acting fast enough. i apologized because i felt as i let the band down for not acting fast enough.

and now i apologize to you now, privately in the present. i apologize because for this i was alone. meandering the wasteland of venus, riding through paris, lost helplessly in Tokyo.

I was not in Atlanta. I was not present with you. and for that i’m sorry.

before i could acknowledge what happened there was utterances of french and suddenly i was presented with a marker and a sheet of paper.

he gestured to me with a nod of his head to take them and put my name to the list — “you are a true fan, you deserve to be there.”

you nudged me as i wrote down our names and said yourself that we’d love a picture with the band.

“we.”

i was still left to run on instinct and as we rotated behind the counters and i stood next to them confusedly. a complete stranger was trusted to handle your camera and we sorted through human tetris to find an appropriate configuration.

flash-pop-pop “oui” “non, non” “peut-être one more?” “oui.” flash-pop-pop.

and then we turned and i shook hands and squeezed my way delicately out to the side of the fan once more. i expressed my gratitude once more but they were appreciably preoccupied tending to other fans.

you pointed out how flush i had become, i was hot enough to send a balloon to orbit. you followed me graciously as i meandered the racks looking for everything and nothing. i should’ve known better but my brain was no place to think straight.

eventually i gathered my wits about me, if only briefly and we were off, looking for some place to feed you and i both. we were off walking the wrong way down the street.

you somehow knew jokes were pointless, i couldn’t hear or see, i was lost in surprise and glee. mining joy at breakneck pace as best i could from the turn of the situation.

we found ourselves back at the car and i carefully, deliberately packed away my precious contents. i turned and you were there, you looked content in my happiness if not preoccupied with the surroundings and i couldn’t help myself.

i lifted you up into me and spun around and instantly i could tell you weren’t comfortable and were not content in this place so as quickly as i lifted you up, you were returned to earth. but in that moment my mind facilitated what i know i would not, three hundred and fourteen if it were one, kisses against your pursed lips. for want to feel then once again like a fleeting moment.

and just as quickly as i ran my mind to such an event, i acknowledge it shouldn’t be nor would it ever be now.

i fixed myself and you looked at me confusedly but considerate enough to appreciate my motivations. though it won’t be until now that you know these thoughts that i’ve entertained.

we found ourselves in a tiny restaurant, guarded outside by the most adorable, if not fat folded dogs we’d ever seen.

the walls were covered in deliberate, organic decor, from all over and of all kinds. we mused on how the staff rules, printed onto the menu clearly did not tolerate bullshit and you mentioned how perhaps your employer should adopt such a method.

i had no rebuttal or retort and quietly uttered “un.”

we independently ordered ginger ale and talked quietly on decor of restaurants and that which is the human diet while we waited. throughout the duration of our meal, poking at our respective caesar salad’s and overcooked fries you and i both knew that still, my mind had moved on to bartering, i was working my mind trying to deduce how to pull off this show.

and you had to be there with me.

you made it known that it was impossible, not to be done and couldn’t be, i settled the bill and we were off, back to the car where you gave some alternatives and i in turn got ourselves lost in atlanta looking for anything of interest and finding nil.

in truth this was a futile effort on my half to just spend more time with you, that’s all i wanted.

and for all my minds eye make outs and wanderings of my imagination at the heart of things i just like to be around you.

before the novelty wore off i turned us around and headed back home. it wasn’t until then that you finally perhaps out of the remorse i felt, or self interest or for no reason at all, sought further guidance and as you spoke, i quietly listened in, and as you affirmed, i slowly changed lanes over and over and over once more.

before you ever finished the call i was turning the car around, and you and i my dear, we were already headed back for the city.

as we ran back through, meandering the peachtree streets, boulevards and avenues. you clearly lost attention and began gazing into the electron sea of your phone. i notice these things but know better than trying to force a cat.

i imagine at this point you’d turn your head and mew slightly, or smirk. or i’m wrong entirely.

we arrived in time to the beat of the day, the sun had begun it’s retreat from our faces to greet other continents, that ornate hall of consumption. you pestered me about how i went about finding parking and iterated you needed a restroom.

crossing the parking level i was leveled with memories of being in the same location with former lovers and the absolute temperament to remember over those feelings in this moment.

some would propose this to be revisionist, i simply feel that in my race to avoid unnecessary sorrow i am improvising as best i can.

i walked you to the elevator and we boarded, you made jokes and i gestured towards breaking clearly marked rules coincidentally as someone came within eyeshot of me. we both laughed and tried to play it off and if only for that shared laugh, that publicly- private moment do i recall those 3 seconds so vividly.

wandering in no direction we did a few things here and there, for the first time in my life did i learn the pleasure of window shopping, which appreciably is quite overdue.

ça ne fait rien.

i bought you a chai latte, you never told me you wanted it iced so i had to go back and ask for them to ice it which they conceded free of charge. the day was speckled with this soft moments like this where i knew you were watching me if momentarily and people saw us functioning without difficulty or conflict.

those people probably found themselves wanting.

we reached that place towards the back and just as quickly you skipped a step inside. effortlessly running your fingertips on surfaces and comparing everything, but nothing specific. in my mind this is how a relationship should work, wandering the store playfully exchanging non sequiturs until finally resting on a hastily put together living room set.

we simply rested and i followed your pace now, we sat there and observed a la française. we sat there quietly in our own conversation, behind a pane of glass and body language. this moment was everlasting to me and i didn’t want the false feeling i had to stop. i wanted this comfort we had there fleetingly on lazy sunday mornings, i wanted to people-watch with you in Montmartre. i turned and saw you and chais pas, you toyed with your straw and i wanted to be that straw against your lips just as you turned to me and you knew what i was thinking, and i knew you knew.

and we both knew i wouldn’t. and that was part of the terms.

but if only in spite of that agreement we wandered on. you led on to a store full of organic kitsch, you flirted behind your eyes with dapper hats, scarves and headbands

united. i chased you to hide behind display windows and magnifying glasses, absolute in it’s playfulness, vague in what we were driving towards until you were done and that meant that here at least, we were done.

we walked back to the car and bartered what to do for dinner. i have done this dance before many times but a new partner makes things exciting.

am i bound for Maison des Amis ou Lit Amant? Pour une fois ou ja vais avec vous, avec vous Mon Intime..
-i care about it.

we peeked in through the door, not quite a duo but not obviously apart and were promptly brought to a table. those entryway curtains always hit me in the face when going through a doorway.

as we sat we both simultaneously took our phones out, throughout the course of the day we’d had something like a cigarette break to check our digital leashes. i was trapped in a conversation with the man who had introduced us and you took my phone to interject a sidebar conversation with him.

i didn’t care what conspicuous content lay dormant for you to find there. something felt unique there at that table. you adjusted your foot and the table shook, just slightly.

when the time came to order, i don’t think either of us were particularly hungry i followed suit with your order and you immediately accused me of being unoriginal, stealing your style and trying to bask in your awesome-ness. my rebuttal was nothing if not mildly flirtatious.

we sat patiently and talked about everything and nothing, your brother, the show, upcoming ideas all in that fleeting sense of occupying the vacuous content of a silent moment. all, hopefully content in that fleeting moment with each other’s company.

i sat there in the taupe tones of the decor, looking at you preoccupying yourself and i wanted this, i wanted more of this. i rearranged the surroundings to send us in my heart and mind the world over, crawling the americas, outstretching europe and back through japan. my mind snowballs these fantasies quickly and soon i saw us staring into the darkness of quiet hotel rooms.

our noodles are sat down and you eyebrow raise immediately as i spice mine thoroughly with further allegory to being this brother of yours, though i’m unsure what precisely that’s a sign of. everything right now is too much, the elements aligned but unfit and i’m unsure what to think. the thought crosses my mind

“une fin peut etre un debut.”

throughout this entire day, throughout every encounter i’ve been madly curious what goes on inside your mind, how you’re thinking and interpreting any of this, yet i don’t need to know, i refuse to imagine or suppose. it’s simply a curiosity that compels me to know you more and better. i’ve never had that happen before.

we’re riding cross country on a train and i can see you older and tempered, i want to be around for that already, i want to be in the process. not to be taken for granted, i see everything in millisecond glimpses, running my fingers down your back while you sleep, 3am sharing of secrets and phobias though i have little doubt that’s possible yet or for some time.

there’s that little chance though, and i hang onto it, for want to see what lies beyond for you. and i. and us both -united.

the pork is chewy and not cooked quite right for my taste, the broth is good though. our table is blanketed in the sounds of quiet remarks and slurps of noodles. the intimacy of it all.

i feel a seed of greed down deep that i would run for this, i would burn and fight for it but now is not the time appropriate and more than likely it’s not reciprocated or would it ever be.

and that’s fine.
— what will be will be, and i’ll stick around to see what you have in store.

we wrapped up the tab and i hurriedly set us off for the hall, back to that artisan corner of the city because this was the driving purpose for the day and we had exception after exception to be able to see it. there was no way i was missing a single moment nor would i let you miss a beat, strum or tone.

as we drove i was fascinated, i had wandered earbuds in throughout tokyo to their work, been lost in california and accompanied on thousands of miles of flight but you,

you’ve not yet etched the waves of sound against memory and emotion. their work is a blank canvas you’ve yet to paint against.

the elation of memory, and the oncoming revelation that comes tone by tone by tone, you’ve lived but you dear are on the cusp of revelation, there are still mysteries left for you to uncover. i truly feel that this is what compels us to listen to music..

i have the issue that i get stuck in thinking too much, quite often even. i become so entangled in thoughts and thinking things out and i can’t move forward..

you’re the first person i’ve been around that helps me live in the concrete sense of it, with you i pursue things i wouldn’t otherwise, “paul it should be done like this” “we could go there and do that”

it gets life happening a lot faster.

we park a stone’s throw from where i drank out of a cargo van at a previous show, i make notice of this and you chuckle passively but are neither impressive or interested and in truth neither am i, i’m just trying to fill the void of silence as my neurons begin to fire faster and faster

and faster and faster.

we negotiate the guest list and immediately stop to get souvenirs. to me these are as important as the event itself, not as some petty materialist signifier, but because we’re taking tangible matter and associating all that of that event into it, our energy becomes one with it.

and i can only hope you’re one to agree.

i won’t hold back this time, i’ll be unto a supernova tonight and you’ll never know. we rush to the front of the stage, spared of seats we’ll have to stand tonight. as we make chatter you snap a few pictures of you, and i, and us both.

we fill the time remaining with conversation, exciting, curiosity, passively flirtation and i see in the periphery everyone looks ready to be young, everyone wants tonight to be what’s around the bend.

i’ve never seen someone move like you, you swayed and immediately lost yourself into the rhythm into the content. you mouth the words you knew, you smiled to what you didn’t and for all the energy and amazement i couldn’t take my eyes off you.

it was then i think you realized i was unsure how to approach holding you.

song by song, deeper into the set and as everything came together, everything worked into a fervor we were building this memory together, erratically, immaculately, perfectly. reaching a fever pitch until finally it all fell to dark, i wasn’t sure if you heard half the things i tried to say to you, i just wanted this to be something you’d never forget.

i’d like to think it was.

screaming strobes, dueling guitars, they played and played and put twice the energy we gave them and we gave them for it and they responded in until everyone became this mechanism for glee. we screamed the lyrics entirely and it didn’t seem to stop.

then we looked at the clock and the cinderella hour was upon us. in a twist of fate we had nowhere to turn, no method of withdrawal and just as we seemed lost amidst a sea of bodies and this energy turning against us as we were no longer apart of it, the lights dimmed.

flicker flicker flicker

The F rang out loudly and everyone already knew, A minor, C, A minor, F repeated and we watched the machine beat to life in it’s final breaths, i turned you around and tried to take you as close to the heart of it as i could and everything was working this one last time, just for another 4 minutes as it beat itself apart, tearing itself apart we watched as everyone gave it their all.

FOLD IT FOLD IT FOLD IT FOLD IT. we cried in tandem
FOLD IT FOLD IT FOLD IT FOLD IT.

we were amazed as he took flight and ran through the machinations of the audience, continuing without a beat. i squinted my eyes and knew what lay ahead, i grabbed you by the hips and your body didn’t struggle you were comfortable. it was probably then i knew i needed greater intimacy with you. i lifted you up to watch as he slowly surfed back, gradually returning to the stage the last seconds screaming out giving every last bit in return and their goodbye.

and it was done, we were past due and every bit of risk was worth it. i set you to the ground and took you by the hand and we ran for it, tossing our things to the car, quickly easing ourselves onto the road and scuttling off back through the arteries homeward bound, we screamed how amazed we were at what we just saw, we wanted more, i played it back and we screamed along. the taillights of the car screaming through the night along with us.

i wonder now if you knew then what things would become, if you would change a thing, even now everything that led to that day and everything that followed, it has all been worth it if just for that one moment in time, that singular day.

what started as a seed, a thought, an idea in that day grew and solidified and has become me, all for want of a photon from a beam of light and a chime.

thank you, goodnight.