More on adolescence
I lock myself in my room, my turntable, a realistic, part of what used to be a stereo system, wires spliced to go into RCA jacks to go into my Helix boombox that I bought at a swap meet. My walls are lined w/ pages that I ripped out of Star Hits magazine. Lyrics from my favorite songs along w/ photos of the Artists. The Cure, The Smiths, Duran Duran, Sigue Sigue.
I have this framed poster my stepmom got me of some racecar driver, like I could fucking care, plus it is from my stepmom, so I care even less. It is covered in flyers from different concerts in New Orleans, from a penpal who sends me this kinda thing. Glued on, defacing this ridiculous artifact that is supposed to make me more your average all-american boy.
Mohawk. Along w/ various other hair cuts. Ear pierced, which got me kicked off the football team. Yes, this is the hicktown I grew up in during the mid 80s.
Stereo turned up so I cannot hear the outside world. It does not understand me. Record blaring through speakers, occasional crackle, as my needle needs to be changed. Sometimes w/ the lights on, sometimes off, always lying on my bed, eyes usually closed, mouthing the words or just letting them run through me, as the night moves on and on, sometimes to daybreak.
Sweet memories of my alone time which is the only time I really ever spent growing up becoming who I am today.
I have this framed poster my stepmom got me of some racecar driver, like I could fucking care, plus it is from my stepmom, so I care even less. It is covered in flyers from different concerts in New Orleans, from a penpal who sends me this kinda thing. Glued on, defacing this ridiculous artifact that is supposed to make me more your average all-american boy.
Mohawk. Along w/ various other hair cuts. Ear pierced, which got me kicked off the football team. Yes, this is the hicktown I grew up in during the mid 80s.
Stereo turned up so I cannot hear the outside world. It does not understand me. Record blaring through speakers, occasional crackle, as my needle needs to be changed. Sometimes w/ the lights on, sometimes off, always lying on my bed, eyes usually closed, mouthing the words or just letting them run through me, as the night moves on and on, sometimes to daybreak.
Sweet memories of my alone time which is the only time I really ever spent growing up becoming who I am today.