Too far, too high, too hard to climb....

I came across a butterfly, dead on the ground. Wings flattened together like hands in prayer. The fragile frame, having one chance to survive; turning to dust in the gravel. A hint of blue here and there, but most of the colour had faded. I saw myself.

Tuesday night I commenced the packing of my room. It took me hours in the hot, stuffy, dust-coated prison. Her voice from the bottom of the stairs: "Do you wanna go out for a beer?"; was an angel in disguise. My mother and I walked down to the Cambie and shared drinks and meaningful conversation. On the way out, she picked up a six-pack of beer, and I bought some Vex.
"Why Vex?"
"Because it's seven percent. Beer's only five."
"Oh god, that's scary. You're so Scottish."
I returned home with my booze, put on Sublime, and continued tearing down my childhood. An hour later, I had to stop. I sat down on the only floor space not covered in boxes, and finished off my second (and last) bottle of dangerously-sweet mixed drink. The next thing I knew, I woke up wondering where I was. I was amazingly able to feel cold, so I stumbled into my sister's room to the oasis of her bed.

I awoke the next afternoon, forced down some breakfast, and went back to packing. Trevor called and asked if I wanted some company. I told him I would die if I didn't speak to another human being soon. So, he came over and talked to me while I sang Led Zeppelin and swore at the packing tape dispenser. He took me out for dinner at Delicado's around 6, which was awesome. Back home, Catherine called me and asked if I wanted to go out to the bar to celebrate her newly-legal drinking habit. I agreed, and told my mother, as I was going out the door, that I would only be having one drink.
"I'm not going to have to see you in any sort of 'state' when you return home, am I?"
I met Catherine at the payphone, and from there we went to Porky's (another personal promise broken), where she was meeting some friends from work. Inside, we both got Smirnoff Triple Black's, and watched guys ogle strippers with an empty hunger in their eyes. A group of us then left the bar to smoke a joint round back.
"This weed tastes like shit."
"Did I just hear a tuba?"
"We'll meet you in the Cambie."
Like old times, the two of us stumbled down the streets and threw laughter into the warm air.
"This is great. Combining two drugs, that normally get me pretty messed up on their own, is a lot cheaper than doing them seperately."
With a short stop at Mambo's pizza to see Marc and make a fool of myself, we went into the Cambie.
"Give us your cheapest beer."
$1.75 got us rat-piss flavoured beverage. We left it on the counter and walked out. Hunger propelled us towards Acme. I had cheese cake, she had a shooter.
"Look at that couple next to us. They're probably having some romantic dinner and trying to enjoy themselves, and they see me, and now they're thinking, 'Aw fuck, we got a drunk'"
We left, me in fits of laughter, and went to Pirate Chips. Catherine had a deep-fried banana. I ordered fries, but didn't even want them, so we left them on the street. Five minutes later I complained that I wanted fries.
I can't remember the walk home, but somehow we ended up there. I avoided talking to my mom by pretending Catherine was too drunk to be let out of sight. In Tracey's room, we talked our way into two in the morning.
"Remember Jackie from work? Well she's always bragging to customer's about how she's doing so well in school and she's the only one in her family to get into college. Yeah. Well the only reason she can afford college is cuz she does porno. And all her boyfriends look like the type that watch a lot of x-rated late-night television. You know, the gross kind."
"The gross kind of guy or the gross kind of porn?"
I got up to get some water from my room, and when I came back she was snoring. I dragged a blanket into the middle of the floor, and went over the events of my night. At least what I could remember.
Plan.....save money for college......if I do take money out, make sure it's for something important. Reality...I take out fourty dollars and spend it all on food, booze, and a marijuana pipe.
There was a time when the thinking stopped, and I passed out on the floor, but the memory is a little fuzzy.






"Do you recall it's name? As it suggested beck and call. This face and heel will drag your halo through the mud."
-The Mars Volta