something to share – pass it onto you – we arrived full of anticipation despite our lingering fatigue – it’s not as though anything was possible, but something was, and that was enough for us – earlier on we shared soup and bread and got toasted – music droned on in the background, it played it’s part but let us live in the moment, together – it didn’t mean anything, but it was acceptable – an acceptable use of time, and that was good enough for us – some of us were drinking, some of us weren’t, but it didn’t make a difference – we spoke of our friends who weren’t with us anymore, and we spoke fondly – when it was time to leave, we put on our warm coats and left mellow lounge to walk through the cold dark night – the shadow of winter’s waving hand – we laughed loud enough for the squares to hear us over their fucking televisions
shelly was a quiet girl – neither friend nor foe, and that’s how I liked it – that’s how I like people to be – neither friend nor foe, neither here nor there – it keeps me interested – shelly’s name irritated me, and my crude sense of humour ensured she kept her distance from me whenever our timeframes inter-mingled – we both like to hang-back and stay in the background, meaning we often shared glance-chance eye-contact that lasted a fraction of a second but kept us both thinking about it for hours afterwards – as we all walked down the streets that night, shelly and I both found ourselves trailing and walking behind the rest of the group – “how’s it goin’?” I mumbled to her – she replied with a smile and a nod, saying “good, good” – I offered her a sip of my beer, and she accepted, handing the bottle back to me in an indescribable way that said – “that’s it, we don’t have to talk anymore” – it was perfect, and I admired her for her honesty
I drifted out, paying attention to no-one and nothing and missing a step in time – some people call them black-outs, but I don’t know what to call them – I like to think it’s a small moment that pops up every now and again that allows me to venture into the unknown, communicate behind the beyond, only to have my memory wiped and re-set as I return to the moment occurring in existence
as we arrived, the group dispersed – dissolving into the snug-pumkin hospitality of like-minded outcasts – fuzzy muffled music drowned out all our expectations, now faced with a wall of actuality that put us all on equal ground – I scanned the room for a drink and saw dean doing the same – outside they had some cold beers and a raging fire, on the brink of making a break for it and burning out of control – I met dean by the fire as we both twisted open our beers – “what’s goin’ on?” I asked, noticing how much like my father I was becoming – “ah, you know” dean replied, obviously not able or willing to think of anything to say, knowing all well I didn’t mind or care any less – dean was new in town, and had clearly fallen sick of people everywhere – where he came from I didn’t know, and I didn’t care – and I think that’s why he liked me so much – whenever I spoke to more than three people at a time, dean was always one of them – not always one to respond, he’d always listen to me and always consider the things I had to say – “do you think shelly’s suicidal?” I said after a moment of camp-fire hypnosis – by the time I walked away to get another beer, dean hadn’t replied – he just stood there staring into the fire, frumping his bottom and nodding slowly
I paced around the lounge room, hearing patches of the numerous conversations around the room – i stitched them together to make a nonsensical conversation in my mind that occupied me for quite some time – I scanned the cd collection, and felt a distant misery wobble awake – so many of my favourite albums and favourite songs, shared by so many people – I often forget that’s the case – im not the only one experiencing this maddening absurdity – I’m not a pioneer of human emotion – everything I love and hate has been loved and loathed before
I was sitting on one of the couches, next to a small group of strangers totally immersed in themselves – I had changed the music and put on something that would connect a few of us, no matter where we were, what we were doing, or who was talking to us – I thought of them hearing the music I’d selected to play, and waited for that one moment our thoughts were synched as we realised what, who and why this particular music was playing – georgie snuggled up next to me on the coach, nudging me aside a little with her arse so she could sit down - something that’s only accepted when done by girls – she crossed her legs and handed me a beer – “cool stockings” I said, noticing what looked like a gothic-forest of dead-trees wrapped around her legs – “thanks, cool huh?” – georgie and I used to see more of each other, we used to be really close – but for one reason or another, there was no need for that anymore – we just naturally fell apart without either of us caring to notice – we were both a little nutty, drinking too much and so we used to write drunk-letters to each other that when collated, would resemble the notes of a psychopath – it was interesting to see her behave as crazily and bizarrely as she did, equipped with the rambling letters she sent me – this inside knowledge brought us closer and for a while we depended on each other when it came to defending our chosen lifestyles – but in time we grew to know too much about one another, and it bored us both – so we drifted – searching our worlds for something else to submerge our confusion into – “what are you up to?” I asked her – “what do you think?” she replied – I had no idea
while trying to find the toilet, I realised I had actually been to this place once before – at least once – I remember the stain glass windows, and how when lit from the inside they looked so much more interesting to me – they made more sense – I remembered the newspaper clippings glued all over the hallway walls – a permanent age of yellow that springs the warm homely smells of someone else’s house – I found the toilet and closed the door behind me – I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, the chatter of people outside – someone voicing their concern over the raging fire – someone knocked on the toilet door, and I turned my head around and said “yep!” – when I finished I opened the door and saw shelly leaning against the hall-way wall waiting to use the toilet – “hey” I said as we slinked passed each other in the hallway – she remained silent, hiding a small smile
I met alex in the kitchen – he put his hand on my back and introduced me to a couple of people I can’t remember – I stood around rubbing my chin and cheek with my hand, watching them talk - i sipped my beer – the kitchen was lit with dusty old candles – more wax than candle really – every now and again one of them would sizzle and crackle and we’d turn our heads to check it out – I picked one of them up and left alex and his friends in the kitchen – I walked outside and shielded the candle from the cold wind – it felt pointless walking the candle towards the raging campfire outside, but I did it anyway – I sat down before the violet flames and felt the heat laugh in my face – looking down at the candle resting on my lap, I felt simple calm flood within me for the first time that night – the contrast between the two flames was immense, in every way possible – and holding that small candle before the campfire made sense to me – it felt right and it symbolised a realisation none of us have experienced yet – but one day, I could sense it – I lifted the candle up and looked at it burn peacefully before the spasmodic campfire – honoured I could create something so beautiful so simply, and that rightly, no-one would ever know
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