“A falcon who chases a warlike crane can only hope for a life of pain.”
— Gabriel García Márquez, Chronicle of a Death Foretold
“If there was a fire in that building over there, and me and twenty other people are on the top floor, I’d get out and they wouldn’t. I only got one leg, but it’s a god damn good sexy leg I’ll tell you that. It’s a sexy ass fucking leg. It’s sexy. It’s sexy as fuck. I’m telling you the truth. This shit is god damn sexy. I don’t have to explain it. It explains itself. Tell him why you’re sexy, leg.”
Do you remember that time? We sat in my fucked up mazda talking about Atonement– the movie, not the reparation– and you said you were sad. You said you had never felt so melancholy. I tried to lighten the mood and made a reference to the Smashing Pumpkins album, softly playing in the background– ironically named, ‘Mellon Chollie and the Infinite Sadness’… and you said: “Oh is that what’s playing?” and I said: “No, it’s ‘Mayonaise’, but thats from a different album”… and you said you hated mayonnaise so I reached for the dial to turn it down, and asked ‘the song or the condiment?” and we laughed…and laughed.
and I thought about how quickly we forget the infinite sadness when we’re lost in laughter.
That was the last time I saw you… I’d give anything to have you sitting with me again in my fucked up mazda.
The Smashing Pumpkins are headlining a show with Interpol this summer..but I don’t think I’ll go– not without you.