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Bryce and I are sitting in his car outside of Conan's Pizza (in the back, actually). Both of us are silent, listening to the song.
'Hundreds of chances, you blew every one'<br /> 'Dice rolled ... double 6 double 6 double 6 double 6'<br /> 'Owner of trouble ... flesh blood and bricks'
Those lyrics took the two of us through his drunken days an Conan's Pizza and our time to make music together (especially "Walk in the Park" and "Ejection") and destroyed me as he left. The crazy ambience in his garage as he screamed 'Cutting the Reins of a Dream' and Tony jarred the ambiance with bass and I struggled to find the correct keys on my Roland still claws at my brain. I would like to hear those tapes, as raw as they may be.
He disappeared, perhaps, in the same way as Raun, scared of the idea of our insanity, or of my fanaticism. When I (which I only very occasionally do) think about him...
He was a good friend.
@flavigula@sonomu.club
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
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