Thursday, March 5, 2009

a letter to my anarchistic weetzie bat

March 5, 2009
Dear Simone,
What coincidence that brought my path past you today. you see i left school earlier than i intended so i could go to the Harold Washington Library to get a CD because i needed a particular song to put on a mix tape (that i've gotten into my head needs to be made tonight) for adrian (why i think he needs a mix tape is a whole other thing, that i'd prefer not to get into just now). and the weather was gorgeous today so i had biked to school, so i was then free to go anywhere i pleased. and i wanted to go to the library downtown. and from there i prefer clark st. to get back up north, because it's a lively street and i'm somewhat familiar with it. but: had the weather been freezing as itso recently has been; or had i left an hour earlier; or had the CD been checked out; or had i not gotten it into my head that adrian needs a mix tape tomorrow ... none of this would have happened.the world baffles me sometimes with its sheer coincidence.
i think i'm glad i saw you. you are so beautiful. sitting on that street corner with your friends, one guitar between the six of you, shouting the lyrics to songs about freedom. i wish i knew those songs. i wish i could have sat down with you and shouted along too. i didn't have to be home for another hour and a half. but you hugged me and sat back down and i stood listening, awkwardly holding my helmet and bicycle, which continues to stay embarassingly shiny and new-looking even though i've had it for a year (and even crashed a few times). and the song ended and you didn't look at me or say anything so i took that as my exit cue and gave a little wave and said it was nice to see you. because it was. adrian gives me little updates on you, you know, but real people are always better to see in reality.
i was glad to hear you sing again. remember that day last spring when i was sorting through bits and pieces in the costume room and you came up with the guitar that just lies aroung the theatre and sat down and played and sang? i was so happy then. i can't really put it into words.
i miss you. i think about you a lot. daily. in a sort of what-would-jesus-do way. i wonder what you would do and how you are. i always wanted to know you better than i did, you were, are, so interesting, a little bit of an enigma. you never seemed to take the same interest in me, and that's fine. i'm a bit bland, i know.
you have influenced me more than you know. i mean, i was on a bike, for one. that's definitely a product of your influence. and i love it. i love biking. i feel free and strong. so, thanks. and talking to you made me completely reevaluate what is good and right in this world and who i am and how i should live and how i can have an effect. thank you.
i wish i knew where to mail a letter for you, because you'll probably never ever find this here.
Little Shop opens in a week. will you come see it? will you make your way backstage at intermission, offering "hello"s and hugs? please?
even if you don't, i think i'll see you again. run into you somehow. and if i don't i have plenty of memories.
thank you for everything forever,
much love and static,
love always,

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