Sunday, October 10, 2010

To whom it may concern

It was a late Friday night. We were in the dorm, pregaming for the party. Rum mixed with Baha-Blast, it went down like water. No burn, no taste. Just the lift of alcohol in an empty stomach. I remember mixed words and dumb ideas. We were fucked. How the fuck could we drive. Then I remembered I wasn’t driving. I wasn’t with my parents. I was in college. I was grown up. Which meant I was too poor for a car. She drove. That girl. The one with the guy. The guy that wasn’t me. A car ride. Too many turns to remember. Yet I was giving directions. When lost, ask the drunkest man around for directions. That’s when men are smartest: when they are filled with alcohol. When men have more alcohol in their stomach then they have sperm in their balls, they know everything. They can get you anywhere. They are the kings of the world. Yet I digress, we made it. Somehow. Somewhere. Where ever the fuck we were, that’s where we made it too. A short walk. Too sober to stumble, too drunk to care if I did. A door into a strangers house. Stairways into their basement. A basement with a keg. Fuck the keg. I have a bottle filled with water. Water that tastes better then water ever should. Lean against the wall. The wall can’t stumble. You can. You will. Very soon. Dance music blasting from the speaker next to me. Bodies grinding against each other under the three weak neon light bulbs. Good God, I thought, what the fuck is this orgy happening right in front of me. What is this shitty music, timing the pelvic thrusts of these dressed boys and girls; whose  brains are filled with thoughts of sex, pants filled with boners, and stomachs filled with cheap beer. A cold drop lands on my head. I look up. the floor is dripping. I catch a drop in my hand. I smell it. It’s beer. The floor is raining beer. I am in heaven. Am I dead? I might be dead. Cause this must be heaven. I hear the music. See the dancing bodies in the neon glow. No, this is hell. Only hell would have neon lights. Cheap neon lights, for a cheap neon hell. I stumble across the basement, and up the stair. Stairs to heaven. Stairs out of hell. I light a cigarette outside. Heaven is cold. Heaven needs to be heated by cigarettes. Hell is full of smokers. That’s why it’s so warm. Smoking in silence. Surrounded by sinners like me, escaping to fill the clean air of heaven with smoke, then dive back down into the neon hell. My cigarette is dead. I’m still trying to smoke it. I give up, and go back down to my friends and the suffering. The beer rain is done. It’s stopped, and that proves it’s hell. Just enough rain to make you think you are saved, then it stops, leaving you only with water. But water is better then beer. We leave. Slowly. Stumbling. How do we make it. How do we escape hell. We take the stairs. Single file. Stumbling. Walk back to the car. Piss in the bushes. Cars drive by, scaring me. But the demons with me laugh. They care about nothing. They are damned. I’ve escaped for now. Sober enough to feel fear. Drunk enough to want not to. The car. Who’s driving? Are they sober? Fuck it. We’re already dead. Our generation is dead. We died in the womb. Driving. Yelling out the window. Back to the door. Everything seems so fast. Make it faster. Make it so fast that standing hurts. Make me vomit. I want to vomit, and throw up all the evil inside me. Then I can find a heaven. A heaven free of neon lights, and where beer rains from the ceiling, and where water with no burn and no taste is in every bottle. Fuck it. I hate college. I just love the people that take me down into these hells. Those people that stand against the wall with me, hoping not to fall, and praying that the music turns into something good, and that the neon lights turn off. I want white light. Not purple or green or red. White light, goddammit. White light, that I can see in. That I can light a cigarette in. That I fall asleep in, and wake up in. Light like the light of my own little hell. Light like my dorm, filled with pregame water.

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