remove ad
latest older random profile notes diaryland

2009-05-10 / 11:54 p.m.

I ended up going to see the Counting Crows in a big stadium in Dublin with some of my favourite people in the world. It used to be laid out differently, all straight up and cold but it's so different and personal now. All black and shiny, but warm, not tacky, and you feel like the music you don't know was written just for you.
My boy held my back for the longest time while I danced and spilled my pint down my purple shirt, and I spent more time staring at the ceiling than I did at the stage. I love that feeling where you stand with your chin right up in the air and you wobble as you spin in circles or ovals or goddamn squares, it doesn't matter. It feels a bit like flying, without falling. I don't know why I chose those few hours to look in the wrong direction, but it doesn't matter. I feel it more than I hear it anyway. Music does that to me.
We got a taxi to the gig, right through Dublin city. The driver had the thickest accent I'd come across in a while, and I kept asking him to repeat himself as he talked like a hard man who knew those streets. But I found a book in the back, and I knew he had a heart just like the rest of us. He had such bright blue eyes, and the strangest haircut.
On the walk home, a woman approached me for money. Me, in my cheap cardigan and my pocket laced with five and twenty cent coins, and I apologised and she insulted me, over and over like she meant it. I threw a coin at her back, and her boyfriend told me that she deserved it, only I was annoyed at myself for getting angry. But she had such hate in her eyes, and I can't accept anything so harsh anymore, I just can't. Choose your battles, they told me. But I can't. Not now.
I asked somebody later that night if he thinks that I'm weird, and he looked at me a while and told me that no, he thinks I'm eccentric, offbeat. Only I still walk in four four time and my heart still beats on the same average as every other person. Offbeat's the wrong word, I told him, but he just smiled and told me 'hush, go to sleep'. So I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling again, the shadows moving in soft slow motion.
I hushed. And I slept.

<< >>