(no subject)
I realized, today, sitting in an apartment in Philly with a bunch of lovely nerds with quite amazing tattoos while they passed around elaborate pipes and mixed more elaborate drinks, that I am completely and utterly straight-edge, but don't feel it at all.
I feel like I fit right in. I feel like my brain is afire and my skin illustrated to show my heart. I feel like I wander about the city, bright light among bright lights, laughing and joking and shining and loving. I feel like a punk kid, eyes shot with metal, taking down the structures of society.
And the whole way home, my brother and I shouted our intensity to the perfect crescent moon, and, cleansed, return to our sedate household, with its quiet airs and graces, its belly full of words and tea and sleep.
It feels good, sometimes, to change the way I see myself. That's all I'm doing. That's all I have to do. My brain is drugs, my dreams are liquor. And for me, they're enough.
I feel like I fit right in. I feel like my brain is afire and my skin illustrated to show my heart. I feel like I wander about the city, bright light among bright lights, laughing and joking and shining and loving. I feel like a punk kid, eyes shot with metal, taking down the structures of society.
And the whole way home, my brother and I shouted our intensity to the perfect crescent moon, and, cleansed, return to our sedate household, with its quiet airs and graces, its belly full of words and tea and sleep.
It feels good, sometimes, to change the way I see myself. That's all I'm doing. That's all I have to do. My brain is drugs, my dreams are liquor. And for me, they're enough.