a story from the road...
2002-05-21 13:38:24 ET

i am not such an interesting person anymore, i mostly sit around and do my art and writing thing, and try and find ways of getting published, besides that i work 43 hours a week to pay my bills, and then i general act just like everyone else....

but i used to be more interesting, i used to travel all the time, and i mean that in the punk sense, me and a friend named athrite used to up and live for weeks and months at a time, just jump onto a bus or if he had a car (he had an amazing ability to have a car one day and not the next), one night we we're in a town called bloomington indiana, really close to indy we had just started a road trip to some where, we decided to crash out in a park, it was warm and they had park benches and had done it a thousand times (theres an art to sleeping on a park bench, one that can only be learned not taught) so some time in the night this guy wakes up athrite (he slept deep i slept light i was already awake) and tells us we'd get arrested if we slept in the park but he knows a place where all the punks sleep at, said words like commune and shit, he also asked if that was are car and if we could give him a ride (car was easily identified as ours, it was covered in rust and stickers) the guy looked like he should have been riding listening to pink floyd somewhere but he was dirty like us so we trusted him.

so we give him the ride, it ends up being some warehouse behind a Big Red Liquior store, strange, but there's a couple of other cars parked outside and he leads the way, its now 1 am and all the lights are out, it had some sort of deck on it that was falling apart and an RV parked next to it, he just walked in the door was unlocked (good sign) and we followed, he imedately went into through some door, stopped and point to the ware house storage like area and told us to go ahead and crash out and then shut the door and we could hear him lock it ( it seemed very strange to me at the time, but i was only 17 what did i know, athrite acted all normal and stuff there were old couchs everywhere, though half of them where stacked ontop of each other (strange), but we going stomped around till we find the two closest to the door empty ones (survival more important than all the light from the parking lot shining through)...so athrite takes the couch facing mine and we proceed to sleep the safety way...sitting up but slouched back, and with sunglasses on...( if you know why we did this good for you if not your about to find out )...

i should mention now that i was wearing a misfits shirt, a clean one at that...infact the only clean shirt in my pack, the last clean shirt, a holy relic when on the road, obiviously i was trying to get laid that night or something...who knows...not important...so i'm sitting laying there sleeping when all of the sudden my spidey sense goes crazy and i notice there is some big smelly thing standing in front of athrite ( i had a row of spikes mounted on washers on my leather jacket right at the end of the sleeve and i was wearing the jacket, a great weapon, i grabbed the bottom of the sleeve in my hand till the spikes and washers were right on top of my knuckles), the guy looks over athrite but doesn't act like he's going to do anything to him, then turns and does the same to me, but then he starts looking realy intently at my shirt and saying shirt under his breathe like "fucking kid, where'd you get that shirt the mall, stupid fucking kid, i should kick your ass"

now i know he thinks i'm asleep and i know he's just talking to himself because its all under his breathe...but he keeps going on...and i know if i move he will freak on me, the whole air of the place stinks with this guys crazy....he keeps standing over me for i don't know how long and then a bunch of people come out of the door where the guy who brought us came from...they seem afraid of this guy and i can hear them say shit like "man leave him alone, he's sleeping" (what the fuck was this guy going to do)... and "so what he's young you were young once..." and basically trying to calm this guy down...then he just flips the fuck out and start yelling and screaming at them and telling them i'm a narc, and starts punching walls and shit and storms out of the place....they freak out and LOCK this guy out...what the shit was up...oh well i'll never know,

when they all went to sleep i woke athrite up we snuck out and spray painted "you smell funny" on the side of there building, so goes life on the road...next story will be about getting stabbed in louisville

2002-05-21 13:43:13 ET

you'll always be interesting!

and now you have the kerouac stories to tell of days gone by.

2002-05-21 13:49:26 ET

when ever i re-read on the road i get nostalgic....or look at my leather jacket...*L* i never wear it just keep it to have it...

2002-05-21 13:57:00 ET

2002-05-22 01:57:41 ET


*nostalgia nostalgia*

2002-05-26 14:00:05 ET

i love you. i wish i was a gutter punk. except for the smelly part. i dont like the smelly part. i guess im too classy. one day ill go on a road trip. maybe after graduation, and just fuck around all summer. yeah. you should give me advise on this kinda stuph 'cos im a fucking retard and probably git myself killed.

2002-05-26 14:00:51 ET

by the way, i think you're very interesting. i wish i had cool stories like that... (sniff)

2002-05-26 23:25:19 ET

you need to find your punk rock yoda....you can't show punk rock over the net its physically impossible to be anything except a geek over the net

2002-05-27 07:25:28 ET

ima geek! woo hoo!

my shoes smell like smufkabeef

2002-05-28 06:53:03 ET

I say go!

2002-05-28 07:41:56 ET

What year was that story? I lived in Bloomington from 1989 'til 1993 or '94. Have you been back since?

2002-05-28 13:35:45 ET

end of 96, sounds like we just missed each other...and yeah i've been back a few times but mostly to visit friends at IU

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