Monday, October 31, 2011

The Ache

I sit here watching you and think "So close and yet so far." I imagine that if I just touched the TV, just put my hand there against it I would feel you. I can't say what makes me think this, it's just a feeling. I cried during "SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT" and "POLLY". I typically cry when they talk about your death. It's all so cold and impersonal. . . KURT COBAIN shot and killed himself. KURT COBAIN commited suicide." It's cut and dry. These are the facts but I cry. So tonight there was none of that, just a show, the one from Paramount 10/31/91. . . 20 years later on the exact same date. And yet, I have this feeling that you being gone know something that I don't yet know. You possess some knowledge of life and death that I don't. The cat was chasing something or nothing, but I wondered if it was you. Wondered if you were here as I cried and if she was chasing you, if that was why I was convinced I could touch the screen on the TV and feel you there. Maybe I cried because it's Halloween and at it's basic level, it is a night to celebrate the dead, even if that actualy happens a day or two later. Maybe it's because I've been watching so many near death experience shows "I Survived: Beyond. . ." Or maybe it's that space time continuum show I watched on the History II channel. Maybe it's a combination of these or none of these. All I know is that I've found myself in this place again, the place where I go often, where I contemplate life and death and time and space, though I'm back in the chair writing this looking directly across at the TV and still expecting it. You're voice is squeaking as you scream "GOTTA FIND A WAY, A BETTER WAY, BEEEEETTEEEEEER WAAAAAAY!!" It's the end of "TERRITORIAL PISSINGS" and I smile at the squeak you've done. I adore it, think it's 'cute' and 'adorable' and the way the song is jumping, the instruments, it's like their three people of their own, jumping up and down of their own acord as you scream. This thought really does make me smile. And now we're into the thick of "ENDLESS NAMELESS" The word "DISTRUCTION" is really what pops into my head here. It may be "ENDLESS" and "NAMELESS", but DISTRUCTION is what comes to mind anyway.
I wonder if when I was born in 86 if my parents had any idea, even a tiny inkling that 25 years later I'd be sitting here glued to the screen contemplating this performance and you as though under a microscope, a dissection project I'm getting graded on and have to get right. They probably didn't but that's no matter. I think the real contemplation tonight is this: What if you did give me my answer? I still feel you here, am positive the cat was chasing you, you were playing with her and though she's quieted, I can still feel you as "ENDLESS NAMELESS" comes to a close, the final strains of it being pounded out in slow motion. It's really over now and the audience roars.
Thank you for being with me tonight, for contemplating with me though I have no idea what the answer is. Besides, like I said, what if you did just give me my answer?

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