A Night in Santa Barbara (from July 3rd)

It was cloudy and we are riding bikes with uncomfortable seats, dreaming of better, longer parkways and allowing our stupid selves fall into dead ins.

(I interrupt myself from pleasant recollection of a day in a sweaty and sudden desire to go swimming in the cold pool at 12:11am on Independence Day.)

We keep finding ways to ruin our bank accounts for this limited summer. I am here for the long haul burning through money as if it kept me warm at night and wondering when words might come to my rescue. They come flowing out of me but I have still yet to understand how to many anyone give a shit about what I have to say. We all get so used to interruption. Brothers, our kin, speak over us as easily as if we had said nothing to begin with. We are left hideous and voiceless. We feel unsafe on long drives back home and there is nothing to it but the trapped sensation of our selves entering the groove, where many souls have expired to pave the way, we are left alone in our hot oblivion.

Strange to think of how transient this love is. We hope to end up in Europe somewhere and understand that everyone hates Americans even if the Americans hate themselves.

We drank with old MCA Records employees, gold-diggers, and prison guards. We felt obligated as we had already been sitting there for awhile, unemployed by the interesting lights and sound effects.

She realizes how unhealthy this life is for me. I am too stubborn to exit in any sense beyond common word usage and jam sessions of myriad accusations sent through electrified speakers and hard wired to our brains like signals of accidental strength, the ridiculous lengths we go to have a decent conversation with a complete stranger. It takes allowing them to buy us both two cheap and watery drinks for the price of one and a quarter and then a pint of the gin with conversation on the beach with fireworks illegal and cop cars chasing them down as if the illegal inventory matters more than blissful tradition and the sense of heaven on earth, with our own power and investment to make stars explode on our own accord, the finalized claims against humanity as an entire species, horrific altogether….

Oh no, Oh no… I carried her from my car. We sat in the van for many more hours than the bike ride lasted. They smoked cigars without us; us without them. They did not need us. Us them. The van allowed conversation about nights. The wildly different perspectives and we felt the anxiety on levels higher than normal.

Too hot to continue. Too drunk and hot.

Embarrassing end to a day, long with stupid weight of insolent claims. Gin and tonic forever and ever. Never allowing this to happen in such a manner again.

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