Chupafest 2012. Le sigh.
Not fair. Distance has never seemed so far away. In a way, I'm very glad to be far away from it, so that I can preserve the how well I am doing, I can maintain my clean bill of health. My sobriety. Which is numero uno, man. Seriously. After that, I am thankful for the distance so that nothing could interrupt my new embarkment on a new boy that fills the very bowels of my heart. And that ain't shitty :)
God only knows what would happen if I was placed again prematurely not only into the swelling, in-your-face-yet-underground petri dish of fuckin opiates and beautifully seedy and intriguing things that swim in those dark waters, but also in the presense of the one-and-only Chupacabra, himself.
As anyone who knows me, my heart will forever swell and shake at the mere mention of Mr. Chupa. My head recites his address, his birthdate, his middle name, my bottom lip shakes, and I feel an intant and intense sense of A) euphoria B) shame C) heartache and D) nostalgia.
Don't think for a second that somehow it obscures the ability to love as deeply as I did him. It doesn't. I feel everything. Too much. Just, it's the fucking chupa/girly-girl dynamic that smelled like campfire smoke, post-grunge and punk rock in garages, burnt cd's, I love you's and I hate you's, tolerance, patience, fury, passion, and holes in the brain.
Can you hear it right now? Ssshhh listen. Yes, there is Hedwig. And his angry inch. Slowly as the lights go down, across the trailer park. And there's that eye contact.
Damnit. If i could fucking astral project for one moment's time, and just let you feel what I do with nostalgia this potent. You would be on fire as well.
Thanks for a lifetime of wonderful memories jam packed into a few years. Most people don't get to experience what we did in three lifetimes.
Someone go for me. And tell me in glorious detail about it. It's almost too much for me to even think about right now.
Muah, Chupa. I know you'll never read this.
Not fair. Distance has never seemed so far away. In a way, I'm very glad to be far away from it, so that I can preserve the how well I am doing, I can maintain my clean bill of health. My sobriety. Which is numero uno, man. Seriously. After that, I am thankful for the distance so that nothing could interrupt my new embarkment on a new boy that fills the very bowels of my heart. And that ain't shitty :)
God only knows what would happen if I was placed again prematurely not only into the swelling, in-your-face-yet-underground petri dish of fuckin opiates and beautifully seedy and intriguing things that swim in those dark waters, but also in the presense of the one-and-only Chupacabra, himself.
As anyone who knows me, my heart will forever swell and shake at the mere mention of Mr. Chupa. My head recites his address, his birthdate, his middle name, my bottom lip shakes, and I feel an intant and intense sense of A) euphoria B) shame C) heartache and D) nostalgia.
Don't think for a second that somehow it obscures the ability to love as deeply as I did him. It doesn't. I feel everything. Too much. Just, it's the fucking chupa/girly-girl dynamic that smelled like campfire smoke, post-grunge and punk rock in garages, burnt cd's, I love you's and I hate you's, tolerance, patience, fury, passion, and holes in the brain.
Can you hear it right now? Ssshhh listen. Yes, there is Hedwig. And his angry inch. Slowly as the lights go down, across the trailer park. And there's that eye contact.
Damnit. If i could fucking astral project for one moment's time, and just let you feel what I do with nostalgia this potent. You would be on fire as well.
Thanks for a lifetime of wonderful memories jam packed into a few years. Most people don't get to experience what we did in three lifetimes.
Someone go for me. And tell me in glorious detail about it. It's almost too much for me to even think about right now.
Muah, Chupa. I know you'll never read this.
