tuesday may 15 2001 | 4:20 a.m. (woohoo)
it should be fall right now. september. the first bursts of orange on the trees. smell of the last cookouts in the air. pedro the lion weather. but it isn't. my pants are full of mud, everyone's asleep, i have three cigarettes left, and i want to stay up for the sunrise.
i also want to smoke up coverband boy. because i'll never get to after this. but how do you say to someone: "hey coverband boy, i think you're far out, no but really though, come smoke a bowl with me and i just know we'll have all these things to talk about."
but i'm never drunk enough.
senior week is insane. we party, sleep all day, and then party some more. except every party gets sadder and lonelier than the last.
tonight bellian and root and kris and i ended up at this post-party in the co-op, after the coverband (power ballad and the like, you see: they're cool) show, squeezing beer out of a rickety keg in a filthy bathroom. coverband boy was there. as was the most random assortment of people imaginable. there wasn't much mingling going on, but it was late and nobody wanted to call out any endings. so we stayed. then back south, bellian and i, to the snack machine in old kenyon. we ran into clare and jamie g_, and sat in the tv lounge for a while, passing around a bottle of scotch and watching the miss cleo infomercial. and now i'm back here, waiting for the sunrise.
bellian found some tevas while rummaging through old kenyon, and i found a really nice knit hoodie. it's mayhem around here, i'm telling you -- a debaucherous free-for-all.
so i have all this coors light and scotch in my belly, and some fritos and chocolate (daily intake of champions). and four days of no-holds-barred hedonism left. who wants to smoke a bowl and watch the sunrise with me?
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spring comes slowly
to this old frame
still i'm frozen
i still live alone
in time memories fade
senses numb
one forgets
how it feels
to have loved
completely
[pedro.the.lion]
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i don't want to leave this little life of mine so fully. so irrevocably. i'm scared of what this means: to have devoted so much to one place: only to leave it behind until it fades. i wonder what it is about higher education. i think for me more than personal edification through book-reading and paper-writing and whatnot, it's been about finding myself in a place with so many interesting, similarly curious, completely different people. now thrown back out into the fray. never again the college on the hill.
so many things i wish i'd gotten to do, things still left to find out . . . i just need a little more time . . . but how much more?
what am i going to do with myself?
i want to keep all of you together in a little island. we will visit it once a year, every year, and we will call it kamp kenyon. we will have bonfires in turtle island and consume large quantities of intoxicants and get the kenyon out of our systems.
the problem is you don't stay 22. you drink your birthday cocktail and the clock keeps on ticking. i guess kenyon wouldn't be quite the same at age 40.
can i just withdraw from this whole productivity-based system?
this is hard. harder than i let myself imagine.
i think i'm going to wake up julie. i want to spend every waking second with my friends.
