Maybe it’s just one of those days when you wake up and while cooking eggs you just stand near the stove the day being the first day of death.
It’s more about thinking if you’re dead or not, what if you repeat all your actions in your head when you’re laying unconscious, smiling at all those people walking around in circles around your body humming songs in their heads which were once in yours.
And then you start thinking what’s really relevant when you strum yourself to the guitar.
And then a bunch of images appear like meeting Meg for instance or Karen taking the kids away last night leaving me in an empty house as I walked in room by room turning off the lights and then going around with a lighter listening to turntables.
I put on Bowie with Moonage Daydream.
I recall calling Meg and telling her about how weird it was and I kept flicking my lighter on an off, trying to light an imaginary roll of tobacco and nearly burning my lip.
She never liked Moonage Daydream that much really, she just thought she knew how to play it and she did. I recall how Meg told me the song and I had smiled and how we’d play it live and how I would feel her eyes being the audience behind me and the crowd would be a wall, I, still a shy kid would sing to.
The choice to end was really a foolish attempt to get rid of everything at once and well, not torture Meg.
I had wanted to hug her that night and I told her that I’d want her right here in my arms with the only light from my hands and Moonage Daydream on and we’d have the lights turned on by Alison or someone else and our eyes closed as our bodies would be given to other people and divorce would be in our mouths.
She came in the end when Moonage Daydream was finishing it’s ninth play and I had smiled at her and the skirt she wore.
Meg drummed with her fingers and I just put my head on her shoulder and she stroked my cheek.
I recall how we shared a milkshake, as I had no idea how to attract her as she’d smile and slowly reveal herself as mostly we talked about music and she’d tell me bands I would not know and understand what I meant and she seemed lovely.
I recall kissing her.
I recall marrying her.
I recall divorcing her.
And I kissed her neck then, softly, looking at her eyes in the lighter’s light and swallowing a bit of fear to just leave nothing to stare with purity, not some innocence which is glossy and hard to swallow, but purity and I just smiled at her.
It is short but I just can't see them doing anything forward if it is in the present I was fiddling with the idea of the past, but ended up in the present and it is a lovely fact thatMeg played Moonage Daydream to Jack in the beginning.
I love Meg's purity.
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