Nonphenomenal Lineage

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Just an East Coast State of Mind

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It’s cold outside tonight, cold like it hasn’t been since February. I have a new book and some of this crazy tea I found at a decaying grocery store.

I love the smell of fresh ink on paperback book pages and the taste of this warm bitter tea traveling down my neck. It is the color of blood and includes passion fruit and rose hips, among other things. What are rose hips?

And then there’s the Morphine. Something about Mark Sandman’s gravelly voice and those saxophones and his lyrics that are always talking about sex even when they’re not, are calming and transcendent, like a night walk through a city park. The music smells like incense, mulled wine and cigarettes.

I met another Grandaddy fan this week, and am still loving going to work. I feel, finally, in control of my life. It’s been sooo long.

A lot of what I thought I was missing from Boston was really here all along, hibernating, until some pieces finally fit into place. I am happy, wholly and completely, once again. And it’s the best feeling, ever.

I still miss the smell of the subway and watching the red line rushing by, 60 miles an hour, just inches from my nose, huge and dangerous.

But now, after all this time, Las Vegas is finally my home.

—–
Currently listening to Cure for Pain, by Morphine

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Written by pocheco

November 22, 2007 at 7:01 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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