Sometimes, but not all times, I transport. Not through vibes but through words. Words, blessings & curses, my only master. Kinda sorta maybe umm yeaa. I must admit, but I do not wish to do so. It is useless to resist us; I believe that is Information Society. Reminds me of that trip so long ago, my only trips being shrooms or acid or ecstasy. Fuckin provincial fuckin New Yorker, I am woman hear me moan.

Yea that trip, thas a good story. I’m kinda nowhere today so I’ma just type away. What was it. Sheeit. 90s was a blurr. I’m thinkinn 97 mmmaybe. Don’t matter anyhow. Let’s say it was 97. It was Palladium. Mighta been the last time I was there before they turned my house into a dorm. Yea so it was a tea party, damn, tea party. Thas me. I’m not up for three days, I just wanna dance on Sunday afternoons. So yea, it was Junior and it was classics and my boy hookt up the shrooms and it had been so long since I had done em that I wasn’t even thinking clearly.

Chomp. Chomp.

My boy goes into the shower.

Chomp Chomp Chomp.

Chomp Chomp. I should leave him somethinn.

He comes out steaminn. “Bitch you ate everything.”

“Nooo I left you some.”

“Bitch, when that hits don’t come to me for nothinn.”

La di da di, we like to party. Walk across Fourteenth and it’s not even five in the afternoon. I wish I could remember what I was wearing. I like that. Let’s say yellow stretch Versace jeans and, damn, were those DKNY sneakers? Maybe. Shit, 90s. Like I was taking fashion tips from Total, maybe. I think I was wearinn that really cute Blumarine shirt silkscreened with a photo of the beach cause I never went. Check it out, 90s was my label decade. I don’t drop names today cause who tha fuck checkinn for Forever 21?

So yeaa. We on the dancefloor and I remember it so clearly. I was lookinn at the, what did we call girls back in the day? Breeders. Shit. We was mean. Mean girls but I was the only girl. Right. So I was lookinn at the breeders and I remember this thought. “I swear to God I hope I don’t become that girl who grows up talking about ‘back in the days.'” Mmm. Jokes on me, but moving onn.

I remember thinking this cause I was turning up my nose at some girls I didn’t know who would one day be married and put their kids photos on FB or some such youu knoww. And me, I knew I was neva gonn be that girl. I already knew. I was gonna stay dancinn and somehow…

Well, yeaa, we on the floor and thas when Junior set it off. Helicopter started to lift and ohhhhh mahhhhh fuuuuhkinnnnn shhhhhhit.

It came on. Just. Like. That. Real fuckinn heavy. Like can’t dance, can’t stand but can’t think either. Just. Ummm. Shit. I followed my boy over to the bar. Remember the bar? Why was that ceiling so low. It looks real low in my mind’s eye. Felt it closing in on me. And I stood there as my boy talked to that guy and that guy said hello and out my mouth came that. That. That damn girl.

“I’m sooooo fuckt up right now,” I said feeling like I was going to slide through the carpet. I was kinda embarrassed for me, right. I mean. I was a cokehead in stilettos. Way more chic. This shroomy ass hippie in sneakers was soo 2012.

Well, anyway. I remember we were over by the sofas and I could not take it. I heard something I never forgot and it went like this:


It was ghastly. It spooked the hell outta me. Talk is so fuckinn fuckinn cheap.

I remember I made it down to the bathrooms. Remember the bathrooms? And the tile floors? And no one was there and I slid into a stall. And I remember being like, how the fuck did I get my panties twisted up. But I didn’t realize this til I was back on the dancefloor and then umm, how do I get em out.

Good lawd.

That occupied me for a good long while. Cause the walls were melting. We’re walking around the dancefloor and I saw the columns dripping. And I saw these muscle boys, you know the ones that can’t reach they heads. And I saw their skeleton underneath the muscle and flesh and I saw their skulls grinninn. Ohhhhh. Man. I was the only one who saw them dead. They were carryinn on. And me, I was leaning against the column, holding it up for dear life, thinking it’s very possible I will slide through the carpet this time.

Remember the carpet? I hope you don’t. You only met it on nights like this one. Lawdamercy on all our souls.

Then. Then what. After that Go Ask Alice moment where my atheist ass was callinn out to God, Just please don’t let me go out like this, we went upstairs and my boy deposited me on one of those nice stools and I sat there watching the air. Cause I swear. Neva happened to me before but synethesia is real. Grab and eighth and see what I’m talkinn bout. Fa reaaaal.

Every song had a pattern and every pattern had a rhythm and I remember just a few of them but Square Biz is neon on black. Pink neon lips and blue neon cars and red neon hearts and everything is flashinn on and off. And Running is silver, black, plum, and grey and it’s cartoon industrial and I remember the African patterns and the Japanese prints dancing but I don’t remember the songs.

It went on like this and this it went on and eventually I found my way back to the dancefloor. And that’s when it happened. When the Universe unfolded, and it let me ask questions and it gave me the answers to the meaning of life. And with each question, the secret unfolded before my dilated eyes and don’t you know the only fuckinn question I remember is the last one and it went like this:

Why can’t it always be this way?

Because nothing would ever get done.