I was driving home to change when my car broke down at the corner of Holloway and La Cienega. Time was tight, had an hour to get across town for a show. The tow came, took my girl away. I ran home, changed, hopped a friend’s car and rode Fountain to Vermont to the Greek. On this night, thank the Angel of Hustle I was flying solo.
I parked at the bottom of the hill and began a half-mile jog uphill. Soaked and short on breath, I found my seat 30 seconds into “Take a Bow.” Muse had taken stage.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a show of any kind stone sober. To this one, I had no choice. There was no time to sip contradiction as I trekked the hill. Green Tea Vitamin Water and Ciroc was still sitting in my fridge.
The show was tragic. I would have stayed all night. And if I had the time and wasn’t saving raisins for Europe, I’d drive to San Diego or Phoenix for a second taste. Walking down that hill after the show was over, I worried about never seeing a set as good…or a band as remarkable.
That was the story of the night…
…
Transition is an amazing thing. And with it, the fear of change. I think I’m going to give up my apartment when I leave Los Angeles. After all, how can you ever learn to fly with one foot tied to the ground? It means clearing house in the middle of August and trying to rustle scratch for stuff I’ll likely end up leaving on the curb.
My entire life, I’ve had a difficult time giving roots much of a chance to grow. For two years, this has been a temporary apartment. Couches, crates, cabinets…a six foot Love Sac that will certainly fetch a bill due to its appearance as a sexual Godsend when actually, it’s impossible. Everything inside this place floats.
How appropriate that the apartment’s tenant follows suit.
…
It’s a calm night here. Sigur Ros plays the soundtrack to a setting Los Angeles sun out the window, to a rattling fan over my shoulder. It’s purple outside and most nights, these are the moments I wish could last forever. And in the future, no matter what happens to this soul, whether it’s so full I’ll fear rupture…or whether it’s empty and content, that’s something that will never change. A dream to hold the world in a moment where everything is right or wrong.
…
Summer is slowly ticking, and with it, my first stint in Los Angeles is coming to an end. But too often lately, I find myself playing with variables. Call Summer X and Los Angeles Y.
Now, add urgency and the weight of self-imposed expectations that words would fail capture. Then, re-value your variables. X= My allotted time. Y= life. Last, say it four times out loud.
No. Say it like you mean it. Half of half as much as I do…
Maybe, just maybe you’ll partially understand. It’s scary…when all you want to do with a life is speak.
