Good Friday.
Tonight there was a gathering at Ryan’s house. He’s dropped out of school to do journalism work in Burma, and he’s leaving on Tuesday. We all talked about his plans, his unknowns, his hopes.
We ate chocolate cake and drank. MaMuse played two songs, and I played two songs for Ryan after most everyone else had left. I stole a copy of his visa photograph and stuck it in my wallet.
The group reassembled at the Tion warehouse, which I guess is now “The Frame”. There was music and lights and people dancing with their arms moving in long slow waves. All I wanted was some Mogwai/Microphones style noise to drop in onto the melodic Zimbabwean performance.
I regretted paying all of $15 for admission, and carefully peeled back the perforated adhesive on my “non-removable” glow in the dark wristband. I gave it to Julia so she and Robert would only have to pay $15 to enter, instead of $30. We had all been told it would be just $5 at the door.
“That’s like paying $7.50 each, not too much.”
“Yeah, that’s the price of a bad movie.”
I came home and set my new alarm clock for 7. Tomorrow I’d like to sprint my single speed up Humboldt before heading to the market. Then in the afternoon it’s schoolwork in the library. After that I dream of recording some music, but we’ll see how my luck turns out.
Now I go to bed, my lips are sticky from small exotic candies.