Not sure what to think.
But I know exactly what to drink: a six-pack of Natty Light.
Sean has clearly given up on the band—he is tired of Ceejay’s constant bum bullshit, always bumming money, rarely paying it back. The three of us need to talk. I don’t know what I’ll say, or if I’ll even speak. I do know these five people mean the world to me: Jordan, Jeremiah, Ceejay, Sean, and May. (Apart from my family of course.) God still means a great deal too, even if I can’t prove He’s there. I spoke to Him last night, in vain, walking around frosty Nashville…
To explain: Sean threw a fit yesterday & declared he’s quitting August Fools. Ceejay had askt to borrow cash, I guess for weed, but then couldn’t pay Sean back. Now Sean’s broke & completely out of patience for Ceej, cursing his name as he drove off to R’s once again. Upset, I went to the wind recital alone & listend to some gals blowing like hell on some flutes. Next I walkt clear across campus to Elliston Place, circling the “Rock Block”—then beyond to the Parthenon, hands in hoodie pockets, fog-breathed & trying to talk to God. Watched mist glide around on the dark surface of the little lake there.
Hearing nothing, I went back to the dormitory looking for Aaron instead; maybe he’d purchase some booze for me. He wasn’t in his room. But then, later, he showed up rumbling on my door & gladly rode with me to Kwik Sak for 2 sixers of the cheap stuff. There was frost forming on all of the cars; instant condensation on my windows upon getting in, too.
We reminisced about the early part of the semester & noted the absence of Tayler & Kenan from Killebrew’s 3rd floor. They have both decided to join the Army. Tay is gearing up for basic, while Keezy is planning to be a translator & is already up there learning Arabic at Fort Campbell. “Hanging” Chad, the catalyst for their expulsion, is still in rehab recovering from his fall. “At first they thought he wouldn’t walk again, but then he started wigglin his toes,” last Aaron heard. He gave me a fist-bump before returning to his room.
Sat on my bed & drank & read.
You know, I kind of miss old Ceejay sprawld in a sleeping bag on my floor.
The book I’m reading, the one my mom gave me, is cald River Man, which is also the title of the 2nd track on that Nick Drake album. Set in 1972 in rural Middle Tennessee, it’s about a singer-songwriter named Nathan Whitley (the son of a Methodist preacher!) and his beautifully haunting folk tunes. He & his friends meet this sinister bar owner & music producer, Egan, who lets them perform said tunes at his bar, River House, promising them a record deal if they do well. As the story progresses, tho, Nathan grows weaker & weaker—Egan is like a spiritual vampire, sapping him of his creative juices, until Nate is killed when he’s swept away by a flash flood. It’s pretty cut & dry: a soul too pure for this world is taken out of it to avoid becoming slave to demonic forces. Mom didn’t mention it, but according to Will this was what my sister was reading near the end of her life, presumably for the N. D. connexion.
Today was longgg, and ended with the Guitar Ensemble fall recital. All of us pacing around the practice halls & backstage, drest in black, nervous. My binder of sheet music was red, while everyone else’s was black. Did they forget to tell me something? I was happy to get it over with. Came back to find, however, that I had overdrawn my checking account, again. So I just deleted the fucker. I’ll have some explaining to do to my parents, but thankfully I’m 18 so it’s all on me, not them.
I am so glad I have no classes tomorrow. I’m tired. And weary.