Avenue A

There's this really small city where everything is in its right place. It’s a place where things never get too fucked up but are fucked up just enough so you can complain about them over dinner. It's a place where I need to go back to. It's the finish line.

And I know that, sometimes, even if we’re at the right place at the right time, we might still screw things up. Sometimes, we know we're not good people so we pour ourselves a cup of coffee and wait for it all to pass. We sit and watch an old cop film, we swear a little under our breathes, then we swear out loud, we go into the kitchen, we pour ourselves another cup of something that's been sitting in the cabinet for months...then we sit back down and continue watching that old cop film.

You see, all I'm trying to do is to find out what it was supposed to have felt like. I lived through the 90's but all I remember are bits and pieces of grainy television set images. Someone telling me that someone died, cops that turned out to be the bad guys and bad guys who were actually good guys.

That was the 90's wasn't it?

I lost 3 hours of time but I don't think it matters much when I compare it to losing 13 years. If I'm being honest though, I do remember waking up in the middle of the night to watch Brazil lose the game, I remember learning how to say "Yugoslavia", and I remember a movie about volleyball. All the details. But I didn't pay attention to a lot of other things. I didn't pay attention when someone told me that someone died, I didn't pay attention to those cops who turned out to be bad guys and I sure as hell didn't pay attention to the bad guys who were actually good guys.

I wasted the 90’s. But don’t worry…I’ll find a way to get it all back.



(The Harbour, 2004)