Wednesday, April 2, 2014

novocaine for the soul

A couple of routine cavities turned into a root canal, and I rode my bike home with the entire side of my face feeling slack from the novocaine, with my smile crooked and my lips unable to suck through a straw. The surgeon likes listening to Brian Eno and Explosions in the Sky so I'm laying there and now my weird brain associates oral surgery with post-rock.

But it's the first warm day of the year, and I overdose on feelings of summer. Stubby pigtails and cut-offs and an old Clash t-shirt and a kite bungee-corded to the back of my bicycle, as the sand swirls off the beach and I'm thankful for the sunglasses that keep it out of my eyes as it saturates my hair. The kite spins and dives and rises again, I am the only one even trying to fly one on the beach that's still half-frozen. Everyone's outside, we're all euphoric, people are smiling and saying hello to each other, couples are selfieing and kissing on the rocks and smoking weed.

I cut through the park up through the old almost-hood, and get invited to some vegan potluck outreach where I'm sure the food is good but I'd feel like I was taking advantage and it's too beautiful out to be in a basement watching a movie about factory farming, so me and Neighbor wander back down, where the dropping sun makes us really cold, and we hang out at the apartment listening to surf records and I think about how amazing it is that we can be poor and have such beauty surrounding us.

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