Today's mp3 of the day, "Apologetic Bananas," is a grunge rock number from when I started writing songs around the age 15, armed with Nirvana, Pearl Jam and Smashing Pumpkins albums. You can hear the direct rip off influence. Click the polaroid to download the m-f'er.
Better than grunge-rock influences, however, is a story from a fellow reader that arrived in my inbox today. It's a story about drugs and sex written by a teenager in college coming down from both and questioning all sorts of ideas about life.
"Apologetic Bananas" comes from the exact same place.
With the kind permission of the anonymous author, here is that story:
I smell like menthol cigarettes, silicone, Armani cologne, and methamphetamine resin. Telegraph Avenue, Berkeley, California. It is 12:40 AM, and I am not going to sleep tonight. I am walking home to North Berkeley from Oakland. I think I needed the walk. The Scissor Sisters have reaffirmed themselves as my favorite band as I am listening to their first album on my iPod. We’re gonna take your mama out all night. I hope my bike is still there, where I left it on campus. I am 18 years old, and I have had sex with four different men in the past week. In the same week, I have been drunk three times, smoked more pot than most stoners do in a month, done 8 lines of coke, smoked opium, and now meth twice. I have six pills of ecstasy in my pocket, and soon I will start selling acid, shrooms, and opium. Plus coke if I can get it. Get it, get it. Despite all the weed, I’ve lost weight this week. No, I don’t have a scale, I just know. I made it to Dwight Way already. Am I writing slowly, or just walking really fast? I am neither cold nor hungry. You’re filthy, and I’m gorgeous. Or is it the other way around? You know what though? I’m so happy with my life. I live in the best city in the world. I have amazing friends. I love my mother so much, and she loves me. I wish I could talk to her right now, and tell her all this. She might freak out, but she’d understand. But, alas, she is asleep. She has to wake up at 5:15 AM tomorrow. Like four hours from now. I’ve stopped now, sitting on the front steps of Sproul Hall, the administration building at UC Berkeley. Second Scissor Sisters album is on. I’m safe now, but I was invincible before. No one would attack me, because I’m too much like them. I’m still tweaking pretty hard. So close to my house, only 15 more minutes. But I’m home. I’m enrolled in 16 units, and loving every moment of each class. At least I’m still smart. I got in here after all. I said “God Bless” to each homeless person I passed on this walk. I do think that it was the first time in my life I’ve said that in earnest. I thought I didn’t believe in God. At least not the Jewish one. Berkeley is so beautiful. If you’ve never been here, it’s worth a visit. I can’t even see the bay from here, just our beautiful campus. And Telegraph Avenue is a must in the shopping world. The sky is almost red, approaching the witching hour. My ex used belladonna. Twice actually. It makes up the real witches’ brew of legend. Makes you think you’re in a completely different world. The temperature is amazingly high considering the time of day and that it’s February. In the teens and snowing everywhere else in the country. From my origin of tonight – after my first meeting as a board member of a theater group, I took BART to Oakland to have the most amazing hook-up of my life. Met online of course. This man is beautiful, perfect. Nice face, perfectly shaped, toned, and muscular rock hard body. The biggest dick I’ve ever seen. I had sworn to never do meth in my life. My number one no-no. Now I’ll have to try PCP and heroin too. Heroin’s root is from the German word “heroisch” – heroic. I feel pretty damn heroic right now, but as the savior of the underworld. I gave a twenty dollar bill to a woman and her uncle sleeping on the street. I told her to use it only for good things, and she agreed. God only knows how old she was. Anywhere between 15 and 40. Scared. She was hesitant to let me approach, but I held out the bill and she accepted. Of course she thanked me vigorously. Sleeping tonight is not going to happen. But God knows I can focus on this drug. I guess that’s why people use it as speed to study for finals. I can do my readings that I’m behind on tonight. I should bring this to my new “foster mother.” Sine I no longer live with my mom, and although we talk a lot, I need a female to be my confidante. As a good Jewish boy, I’m required to love my mother unconditionally. And I do. Last semester’s mom went back to the south, so I somewhat replaced her. The new mom and I have the same sexual age limit: 42. Interesting number to choose I think. I’ve never read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, or seen the movie, but I know the reference. I know pop culture really well. I am fascinated by how shallow life an be, and I hate Southern California, but sometimes I want to be a coke-using LA clubber mingling with Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Christina Aguilera. The new gay sexpot that the girls adore. Or I could even be a porn star. Maybe I’m delirious. Who knows? Not me. I also want to be a politician. That’s why this story has to remain anonymous. The sky is so bright. Even in dark paths I can see clearly. I’m still sitting at Sproul Hall. So many people walking by still, even though it’s almost 1:30 AM, I’ve stopped trying to think about how and why my life as it is came to be. It’s not worth the thought. I’m moving now, in the general direction of my home. I’m quite a schmooze too – very social, even without drugs. But really, the biggest goal in my life is to do research on drugs. As they are my passion, I want to learn more about them. I’ve read about how DMT is responsible for near-death experiences and alien abductions. I’ve done it, and I understand why. Salvia is a similar drug to DMT at least effect-wise. They open your mind. Salvia is used by Mazatec shamans in Oaxaca, Mexico. To study what they do and why. That’s what I want to do and know. Travel the world. I speak four languages. It’s feasible. Someday, I’ll find my prince, who will sweep me off my feet every time I see him. I’ll do every drug imaginable with him. He’ll be beautiful, just lie I know I am. The perfect life is attainable, it’s just different for each person. Or, even something else, variations are always possible. I wrote to my mother once, something like I want to get on a plane with you, and just go, and never return. We could see Grandma and my brother and sister occasionally. But it would just be me and her, until one of us dies. Life is so incredible. And so beautiful. Like a rose petal falling onto a mountain lake in the spring. And suddenly, it all makes sense. Life is individually designed for each of us. We can affect the course of our lives. But God loves us all equally, and wants us to be happy. One needn’t believe in God for this to happen. Oh yeah, I study anthropology. It all goes back t my confirmation speech in tenth grade, when I spoke about potential conflicts between science and religion. God did not create the world in seven days, but he did allow the universe to form,on its own will. Astronomy and evolution are still completely true. As are microbiology, chemistry, and physics. The world is just so perfect, in its own unique way. There is no other life in the universe, although it is infinite, we’re just being teased to think about the possibility. And it all makes sense. But enough about what I think. What do you think about all this? That’s what really matters.
This version of "Apologetic Bananas" was recorded live at the Velo Rouge Cafe in San Francisco last month.