That other weekend...

This other weekend I was thinking about my true friends. The ones that would call your house even though they know your parents are home, and they know that talking to them, as a guy that isn't your boyfriend, would be awkward. The kind of friends that immediately scoot over their chairs when you come to sit down, so as to make room, even though they thought you would be there so much earlier, with a group of your own friends. The friends where you can talk about all the ugly things in life and you can rant. Friends that make the 'stop talking' face when someone comes up behind you that you just started talking about. True friends, that make sure you know if you have a game or not and offer to cover your work, even though you're pretty sure you don't actually have a game. Or just, those people that you talk about music with, and popular culture, and those cliche topics of drama and love lifes and stuff. They are frinds.
Friends that don't mind if you stick mustaches on their car.
Pseudo friends that know that if they were going to your prom, then you would be part of that group that all hangs out together beforehand.
Friends that give back massages.
Friends that talk all night with you.
The friends that even though you don't see them, they know that you want the best for them, and they understand when you don't have anything to say for the type of situation they are in except "I'm so very sorry..."
People that know when you listen to Johnny Cash on repeat it is almost always a bad thing.
People that wanted you to go to the movies with their friends, even if it would mean taunting. And jeering.
The type of people that don't care if you yell at them or not. They just care about you.

Friendly type people.

Ones that understand that when they diss your hair and you say back "FUCK you too"
they really shouldn't take it the wrong way
you're just having a bad day

way to go

There isn't a room with a view
there is only one room
or one wall
with windows
and apparently
if you can see, if you are not blind
if the windows aren't opaque, if your eyes aren't melting
than there may be a view to the outside
but, you have to take into account that, indeed
your eyes may be melting


The shit times of spring:
A. lets go visit college, oh well, your grades suck, so your staying home
B. love sucks
C. physics sucks
D. soccer 1-3? season...
E. this writing, this season, it all
F. sucks

ick.

If I move away,
down to Cali where there isn't blue sky
if I find along the way
that there are many miles of
open country and big air
will I like it there
I'm not much for cares
the ease, the space
the packed apartments
the smog
I can see it pasted to me
pasted in my background
as if scissors cut me from here
and pasted me
right
there
never more have I wanted less to move about
and I never want to lose what I had before
and I know that what I wanted before
was to go to Cali
Greece did call me
Germany, maybe
France and its Parisian splendor
and the NorthEast America
with the Dutch beauty
and urban sprawl
of a million buzzing masses
huddling in cement towers
I knew that they too, were calling me
Marina City, and it's devotion to the water
I liked it too
but Cali, it's calling
but there's nothing there for me
except for
Cali