by Tyler Derouin
My handwriting has become increasingly difficult to decipher; I think it might mean
some kind of internal change. I can almost feel the gears embedded into this flesh shift. Almost like a bird breaking into erratic flight with a hawk just seconds behind it. What’s this urgency? Where did this recklessness come from?
-Home 8:28- I will leave fifteen minutes before drama, been late too much.
-Drama 12:01 - didn’t talk a lot. Got aggravated with Meg and Rose for fooling around so much. Luna didn’t say goodbye again. Gas is low.
-The stream 6:30- looks like the day portion of this Saturday has gone to waste. It feels peaceful to be alone though. I should head home, need to get a jump on that homework.
At this point I always keep my knapsack packed incase I have to take flight. Like right now, in the kitchen, my parents are screaming at each other. “God dammit, Liz! Are you fucking stupid?” These walls are embedded with loathing. I walk by them with a lowered head. “Are you trying to feed the whole god damn neighbor hood?” My brother invited a few friends to eat over, my dad wasn’t pleased. I’m just going… away.
-Enfield Street School playground 8:14- My father was so angry. I don’t know where to go. Maybe Powder Hollow. The sun’s going down and it’s getting cold. Maybe the roof of Enfield Street when the people inside leave.
I look up from my journal. A ghost pushes the swing next to me. The sky seems
aggravated, so close to taking the form of something magnificent but just not seeming to be able to bring itself together.
I need to leave. I need to get on my bike and leave. Dark classrooms pass by; I remember what it was like to be in those rooms. The tiny chairs used to seem so big. I stop outside of my third grade classroom. I remember the walk from my bus to this room that first day- so nervous but so excited. I saw all my friends everyday in this classroom. Now, looking into the reflection of the window, I only see me.
Octahedron by The Mars Volta; can you hear that guitar? And Cedric’s voice is
like the tangle of angels’ brass. What am I without the bruises? It seems like time’s jumping. Wasn’t I just at the school? How am I halfway to Powder Hollow? Oh I don’t want to go there. I don’t feel safe there alone in the dark. Why am I still riding my bike towards there? Stop it! Why the hell are you—my phone’s ringing. After a quick talk with Cerpin I’m heading over to his place. PParents are at Mohegan Sun for the night.
I leave the water running. I don’t really have too much of a footing on time right now.
I’m, I don’t know, overwhelmed. In the florescent lights of Cerpin’s bathroom I remember
coughing. I remember coughing up blood that only I can see. I’m staring into my eyes. I’ve seen this shade of capillary white before; it must crawl out of those bottomless holes.
-Cerpin’s room 8:50- Cerpin is downstairs making us a microwave dinner. Been listening to Beefheart. Cerpin seems off tonight, said he needs to talk to me about something.
-Snake’s kiss defies gravity. Going to lie in the grass and feel the moon. Jammed with Cerpin—we were lost in it. My fingers on the neck of his guitar cycled through so many emotions in such rapid succession.
-The Green Winter my friend. We will grow balloons to fill our lungs with twisted magic.
-Top of Enfield Street School 10:56 - The moon guides my meditation silence. Right now The Mars Volta is the pressure on a deep cut. At least there’s not that much blood.
I’ve never been on top of a school alone like this, just alone with my thoughts. It’s so
strange, I don’t think when I was going here I ever thought that I’d be doing what I am. I don’t think I ever thought I’d, well, be what I am now. Tonight the moon is a super moon; the closest the moon has been to Earth in eighteen years. I can feel its pull- I feel so much pulling. How do I mess so many things up? Today at drama, oh it sucked. Luna and I hardly talked; we made forced idle conversation. How can I be that bad of a boyfriend? And I hardly talked to anyone. Why would Meg dick around that much? Come on! You’re assistant stage manager, I depend on you. And take Rose? If you’re going to take someone helping me at least take one I don’t have a crush on.
Oh. Dammit, that’s right, isn’t it? How could I let myself do that to Luna? What’s wrong with me? I can’t even bring myself to hold her hand? Tyler, you are nothing but pathetic. Oh, but poor Cerpin. I wanted to cry for him. He was real shaken up tonight; I’ve never seen him this bad before. But how could she do that to him? That complete betrayal is just so messed up- how could you tell him you love him then not say a word to him for an entire week? He just barreled into me with it, it was so much to handle. It was overwhelming. I’ve still got that feeling. I’ve got so much weight on me right now but I had to appear strong for him. How could she just turn around on him like that? How strange it is that someone that important in your life could just not be a part of it anymore. A bodiless funeral must hurt far more.
Cause we all crawl in quicksand the same. The moon is orange tonight, the closest in my life time. I should stop staring at these old shingles. The grains punch themselves into my side. Close the doors if you want to see her breathing again. Blur the days, sleeping is just not an option. Frances. I’m so afraid for you. You’re getting bad and I know it. You talk about drugs so much- so excited about tripping this weekend. How many times have you taken shrooms in the last month? Why are you doing this to yourself? What enlightenment? It’s a vacant solution. Oh man, how do things get so out hand?
Concentrate on the singing instead- what did he just say? Since we’ve been wrong, I’ve been part awake. Since we’ve been wrong you will never, ever know me… Oh no, I don’t want to hurt again. Growing up without each other, never having all those beautiful times I know that we can have. We will never know each other past high school. Screw you Cedric. I’m shaking because of you. I don’t want to lose Luna. There’s just so much I see in us. There’s so much potential in us. It feels like there’s this wall but no matter how hard I hit it I won’t get through. I’m pounding my firsts on it but it just won’t crumble.
Crumbling down, down, down. Why do they fight so much? Over such remedial shit! How could you get so angry at your wife over something so small? Their knife tongued feuds have never been so many. And all this right after they were the happiest I’d ever seen them in their courtship? Cuddling each night in front of the TV, going on dates to movies and dinners, even walking in on them was in some way a comfort- a reassurance. But this? What you’re doing to each other now- tearing at each other. Heartbeats skipped from the lacerated constriction.
I look back up at the moon; I’ve seen this shade of capillary white before. Oh, it’s late. Much later than it should be. I wonder if Luna and I will ever lie up here, it’s so nice here. Just completely vanishing off the radar. I know we’d be so in synch. No, I don’t think she’ll go for it. No, of course she wouldn’t. What am I thinking? And up that hill go the last of my crumbs; we’ll be lucky if we eat tonight. I don’t want to go back- there won’t be peace, no silence, no comfort. I’ll lose it all. How wrong is that? Your parents don’t create somewhere where you want to be? Your kid is reluctant to return to what you want them to call a home? No, that’s totally messed up. What’s wrong with these people?
The television is still on, they’re on separate couches. Idle conversation with my mom while my dad’s passed out drunk. She’s been crying, I’ve seen this shade of capillary white before. I don’t want to talk to you. Let me go to bed already.
-Terrified of what I see, mortal fears are justified
The sands of time crack the glass, fired to oblivion
Drowning in the shit and I
I don’t want to see the sun again
Breathing but tube fed and choked by the umbilical
Inhalation of this muck, pneumonia phlegm sickens;
Pushes them away and to, to where they’ll want to come back again
The sands of time don’t slow even if you’re drowning slow
Rushing right above my nose wishing they’d come back again but.. but.. but
-Bed 11:40 - I grip rocks with my teeth, these sandpaper tears rub my flesh raw. Goodnight world.
Artist & Photographer:
130 cm x 89 cm / 180 cm x 123 cm / 260 cm x 178 cm
C-print under Diasec. Edition of 9+2AP
Brian Despain - The Escape
Into the wild my friends!
love the idea