like when I was fifteen

December 16, 2002, 03:22 pm

Lately, I've been wanting or missing or wishing that I could just lay on the floor and listen to certain songs, full blast. But my speakers in my apartment are insufficient; I need the rockin' power of these 1970's brownwood speakers with the brown-and-orange grillcloth and the metal label proclaiming “Utah” that I stole/inherited from my dad. They stand about three-and-a-half feet high and weigh too much which is just enough for the rock and the roll.

And really, the floor of my room in my apartment won't work. It's not big enough to lay down on, what with my bed and bookshelves and 8 foot desk (which is really just one of those lame, fold-out tables) and guitarstands (with guitars). The floor needs to be big enough to accomodate me laying down, plus the speakers (the Utah rockers) definitely need to be on the floor, close to my head.

And then I'll just spend the rest of the day listening to Nirvana and the Smashing Pumpkins and Neutral Milk Hotel and Queens of the Stone Age and anything with sufficient bass to power my speakers into shaking my heart into beating. I'll just spend the rest of the day like that. Like when I was fifteen.

I don't know if I'm craving this because I wish that I had fewer responsibilities and things to do, or if it's because I wish that I lived with my parents in Elizabethtown. I don't think I want to live with my parents... I think it's just that I wish I were as carefree as I was when I was fifteen.

I also want to write a song about this kid (whose name I don't know) that bought my dads mid-seventies Toyota Celica GT in the early eighties. He bought it on a Friday and spent all weekend installing this new stereo, which he had blasting as he rolled through the intersection of Mulberry and Poplar Streets. Unfortunately, because he was rockin' it out with his new stereo, he didn't realize that an abmulance was coming. The Celica and the ambulance smashed into each other and I'm pretty sure the Celica was totalled. In real life, the kid was okay, but I think in my song he'd die. You know... the whole rock 'n' roll can save my soul kinda thing? I dunno. I'd think that's funny.

And Jesus this bottled water is fucking cold! Or maybe my taste buds are really fucked up from eating so many Halls Cherry cough drops.

two-headed boy
she is all you could need
she will feed you tomatoes and radio wires
and retire to sheets safe and clean
but don't hate her when she gets up to leave