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07 September 2007 @ 09:14 pm
The 27s  
So, I have reached That Age, the Iconic Age, the year twenty-seven. A lot of famous musicians --our modern-day bards-- have died at twenty-seven and it's seen as the age where you either exault your art or succumb to it entirely.  

So far I've just felt tired.

I went to an open mic last night, (not very open-- you have to sign up three days in advance,) and listened to some amazing non-professional musicians. My favourites were a fellow named Richard, who had a pleasantly broad face and my own summer-wheat colouring, a woman who's name I cannot remember but who sounded so strongly fractured and beautiful that I sat absolutely still to listen, and a girl aptly named Rosie, who has a voice that is a cross between Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell. Her very aura was rose-coloured and faintly ringing with copper. 

I met a man named Dylan, who is dark-haired and grey-eyed, with an over-intense face. He reminds me of shavings of metal in spirit, but I liked the edge of him. He is not someone who I could feel entirely safe alone with, given that I can read deeply into him and I can sense that he would have a vidictive temper and be prone to violence. Yet, he is thirty, and is aware that he can no longer be so careless as he once was. He proffessed a wanting to change, but even in his trying I can see that he will ultimately turn back and keep being the man he once was.

He is someone I'd want as a friend, rather than any other kind of lover. 

We went out to a bar that had a very western decor --tin ceilings, hardwood saloon with brass bar-- and that was playing very bass hip-hop. The juxtaposition was amusing, and I liked the blue darness of the place, so I settled down to watch the rest of the room. Dylan sat tightly pressed against my side and bought me a white rose from a sweet and pushy white-haired vendor. (I've never seen such a sweet-looking little old woman walk so fearlessly into a college bar before.) He did not read my body language well, which was saying: back off, we'll only ever be friends if you are like this.

I do genuinely like the man, but I am not willing to be in any sort of relationship beyond friends with anyone, whether it be a lover for a night or a month of nights at this point in my life. This will change, and will do so without warning, as life does, but I cannot anticipate for it, either.

At the end of the evening I explained my feelings and we parted with a little bit of upset at his end, the slightest bit of stepping-back-into-social-life hurt on mine. When I called him today he appologized for coming on too strong, but we both are having the grace to go on from here, I think.

Tonight I have a headache, but tomorrow I'm walking to the hemp festival at Caras Park by the river. Hemp! Wooooo!!! 4:20, man! 

"Glass piece," not "bong."
 
 
Current Location: mentally in New Amsterdam
Current Mood: soreheadachey
Current Music: Plain White Ts- Hey There Delilah