It is the last day of high school. We think. We have been up since
the night before and don’t really feel like going. Amy chops up, Dan looks into
space. Clauds waxes lyrical about something. You look at the shape of the
sunrise and smile your knowing smile. I
am confused, always confused, all the time, but especially in this stoned blue
hour.
I am lost. I don’t know up from down, left from right. I don’t know
when I threw my soul under the bus. I am a child but I am living in addiction
with all her vices like banshee roommates, following me around and yelling
silently all the time.
There is an argument, some argument, about whether or not we go to
school. Clauds say “Yes”. You say “No”. I look at you, I look away.
