Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.

2003-06-09 - 3:18 a.m.

It was the middle of the night and nobody in Suburbia, USA was supposed to be awake, but there I stood with several of my neo-beatnik compatriots waiting for the train to come. Large paving stone crunched beneath our pacing feet while we sipped whatever our pizza delivery jobs would afford us. Here, in the woods, near an empty highway�s overpass, lit by a full summertime moon, came the lumbering hulk of the freight train. After the engine had passed, I drew closer to the tracks, taking in the smell and the force of the windbreak, taking in the rumbling and the deep resonant sounds of something massive rolling by.

Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.

I�m in Hawaii, or rather, above Hawaii. On the hillside below I can see a marvelous circular rainbow projected from the sun, to the rotors of the first helicopter I ever flew in, down through the misty air, and running along the green ground fast in an effort to keep up. My nuclear family is with me on this tour. We touch down on the far side of the big island to refuel or some such aeronautical tuning and I excitedly attempt to converse with my brother, but to no avail, as we�re too close to the slowing spinning of the large blades.

Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.

Pre-Giuliani-crackdown New York City. More chemicals than I care to admit are coursing through my young veins as I can�t help but white-boy dance amongst a thousand or so strangers in the then-mighty club, Twilo. The brand of intoxication I�ve been prescribed tonight gives me the urge to chat up any and all of the lovely birds around me. This proves difficult because either my first impression, or the ever-present, seismic, rhythmic, thumping bass, prevents my swoons from being audible to the ladies.

Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.

I can�t sleep. I told her it was okay, that I wouldn�t feel a thing, but I am realizing I say a lot of things I don�t mean. Too often I say the things the person I wish I was would say, in an effort to be more like the person I�d like to be. Too often I�m just pretending to be anything but selfish, jealous, insecure, vulnerable, weak. There I lay, trying to think of trains, or islands, or discos. It doesn�t matter if it�s in the next room, or the next state, you can always hear your love getting off with another.

Whoomp, whoomp, whoomp.