tryst

Sentiment. Tokens. Ancient boxed memories of boyfriends and girlfriends and social affluence. Of parties and post-parties and places where you belonged. Pictures of you taking shots with people that you loved that you now hate. Pictures of you in that....whatever happened to that dress? He looks hot. You look happy. Letters that say "I love you." Cards that humbly state "forgive me." Poorly written poetry on cloud stationary in size 14 Helv from boys who never stood a chance. Fraternity letters on a keychain. Dried carnations from the 7th grade secret admirer you never unveiled. Mix tapes. Locks of hair. Pieces of driftwood you carved into. Postcards. Doodles. Games of hangman. Bottle caps. Shoeboxes crammed with craftily folded notes from the years where you had nothing to say but who you wanted to flirt with in 2nd period. Unfinished songs. Scribblings on supermarket stationary. You thought you loved him. You know you didn't now, but you save the thought. You save all these fucking moments. You document everything. Sweaters and t-shirts from former lovers, a peice of rubber that came off of his shoe, goodie bags full of almost decade old candy from track meets, spelling bee certificates, honorable mentions, blue ribbons, altered report cards that passed by unnoticed, college acceptance letters, post-its telling you who called and when, voicemail messages immortalized on cassette, interviews and pictures in the papers, birthday cards, Christmas cards, old flyers from former bands, set-lists, thank you notes, fanmail, sketches, comic strips.............

Are we spending to much time remembering to look ahead?

And my question is this...

To be sentimental?

Or to throw it all away,
and start fresh?

Remember, if you're IN or near NYC, come to my band's show tomorrow night at Piano's in Manhattan, or come to the show in Brooklyn Friday night (details on the site). COME dammit.