"out by the boxcar waiting...there is a wait so long, so long, so long...you'll never wait so long..."
ever-present ghost of mine, how can i get you out of my head, my heart, my life when accuradio plays your song? unmistakable bass line thrums, summoning movies i never saw to the theater of my mind. there you stand, in the middle of smirking nothings at your prom, spinning around your high school girlfriend, as your best friend does the same.
four rebels without a pause, beyond giddy that the DJ indulged an anomalous pixies request. in the midst of disposable early 90s pop, frank black sings your life.
your memories are now mine, whether i want them or not.
unbelievable. just five minutes ago, it took all of the meager tools remembered from my zen mindfulness class to forget the gorgeousness of the southeastern paradise from whence you came. then this song materialises to mock my attempt at walking away.
the scene that i was failing to leave-- the gas station at dusk. across from the inn. where i bought those bizarre gourmet potato chips-- yogurt and chive? i couldn't shake THAT image-disease.
towel-clad girl skips giggling outside, to retrieve mischief-making supplies.
dark air moves, thick with salt and surf.
ancient smells are interrupted by the indignant modern chirp of a honda confirming that yes, it is locked.
a door slams shut, the glorious laughter is muffled and i desperately, hurriedly put away the past even as U2 wages insistent "war" on my ringing, sad ears.