Rainbow Oblivion

Thanks Josh

There is nothing prettier than watching your own relationship end. It’s another story for you to tell on the bus on your way to see the woman who made you, on Mother’s Day. That’s all it is. That’s all it was. You need to start training again for the amount of partying that you’re about to dive into. God, who invented the Frozen Margarita? You owe them your life right now. Take a whiff. “The End” has a very particular smell to it. What a perfume! It’s beautiful, it smells alot like “The Beginning”. But, it may take you a few days to notice. Right now you’re just watching the choreography. The phone calls taper off, the disagreements flare up, restaurants become difficult to choose and the “flirt meter” when you’re out with friends gets so easy to defend. It feels like high school again, the only time in your life where hurting so bad felt so good and music sounded better because of it, and junk food was fascinatingly nourishing. The days when a lake was not just a lake. No, it was a body of water with all of the answers. The silent ride home becomes… deep inspiration for the poem you’re writing on your arm for your secret online diary. No one understands you, you pretend, and there’s all this snot in your nose and you blow it out like a movie you saw where the dude was cool and right now you don’t care, like he didn’t care. When you finally hear the words “I don’t think this is working” you pantomime a kiss to the sky and you let your left brain do the talking as your right brain rejoices because you are free, finally free, from all of this pretender bullshit and you’re back on the path to fulfilling what you were put on this planet to do.

(written before temptation became salvation)

The Ushers

Karine in a hotel in Istanbul. It was inevitable.

You’re surrounded by a few old friends and many new friends in anticipatory stances while you wait to get your bottle. This is where the party starts. How you handle it will be the determining factor of how the night will go. Everyone is standing around like ushers waiting for the curtains to open. And then when you hand them a little liquid in a glass full of ice, suddenly they become the performers. The long faces, the attitudes and the territorialisms are all gone. Everyone is suddenly cuter, the stories are funnier and people are cross-polinizing. That was fast. You give the bottle to Lauren. She’s in charge of topping people off and keeping it away from the freshmen while you leave the table to find the beautiful boy who playfully kissed your neck out of the blue earlier. You suddenly remember that Jeff Buckley quote from Live At Sine. The one where he says “If you do anything regularily for a while, sooner or later the weirdos will show up”. The night is magic and it’s only 12:30. Remember when you made $6,000 dancing for the Prince of Dubai’s birthday party even though your mom called you a whore? Well now you’re finally here where you knew your soul belonged: in a dark club that smells like puke, hosting one of the hottest new underground parties in the Lower East Side and in charge.


“You haven’t heard of The Uncanny Valley? It’s that scientific theory that says that the closer you get to simulating something human that isn’t actually real, that the more people tend to get turned off by it. It’s like those hipster parties that you go to and everyone’s going crazy, the girls are dancing really hard, the boys are yelling and it’s packed and you look around and you can tell that something’s really off. You can just feel it. That’s when you realize that it’s just empty. It’s just humans simulating the human experience of a great party for the sake of photographers and video cameras, but it’s actually completely devoid of any soul.”

The Danielle Steele-lians


You are watching your mind run away from you. You don’t want to go out or put your contacts in or put your make-up on. You want to be away from people. There’s acid in your mouth and food is undesirable. You don’t want to be lured into someone else’s dramas and away from yours, because you prefer it here. You don’t want to hear how it’ll pass, or how you don’t deserve this because rationalizing the pain doesn’t make it go away. All the flowery words… the turn of phrases… and the logical conclusions… none of it can spare you from the shitty feelings you must endure when your time has come. Thoughts have stopped making sense, but you still have them and you still believe in them even though you know they’re wrong. Knowing that the pain won’t last forever doesn’t stop it from feeling like it will. Your inside world is the enemy and you almost want to die. You’re shaking your head now because you remember that Nirvana’s last recorded song was for the Beavis and Butthead movie soundtrack and it was called “I Hate Myself And I Want To Die”, but no one saw it as a cry for help. All you want is to go into a deep sleep until it’s spring again, but instead you have to go out tonight. This anguish is a fabrication of your mind but you can’t turn it off. Your limitless creativity is at work against you right now. You’ve constucted scenarios so deep, so “Danielle Steele-lian” that somehow they’ve become logically plausible. You feel like you’re walking around in a Bonnie Tyler video and then you realize that it’s only the decor at the Hudson Hotel during fashion week. No, Warhol and Basquiat won’t be walking around the corner any time now. All of these Keith Herring enlargements, the Madonna mural and the Interview magazine wallpaper will be gone next week and so will the pain. An hour later, you love him. An hour later you wonder why you’re “in this”. An hour later you don’t care either way because you’re just gonna “do you“. You’re above all this stuff because you’re a woman now. See… you already feel better. You go to the after-party and you flirt and you drink and you celebrate your newfound aloofness. You’re only checking your phone because your girl is supposed to be meeting you soon. No one mentions anything about the past few days when they see you because they’d rather deal with this version of you, even if your happiness only comes in tiny morsels during the loud music or when something chemical is in your blood. You are deep inside the endless nameless and you have no regrets. It is in this moment of bliss that your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket. Not like a “text message buzz” but like “someone is calling you buzz”. You rush to a more quiet location while you are taking it out. As you move through the people you realize that you’re drunk and that it’s 3 am. The number is blocked but you answer it anyways. You can’t hear a thing that he’s saying. Hold on, hold on, you say and you finally get to the girls bathroom. Hello, hello… and your mouth is open as you listen to an automated message from T-Mobile advising you to pay your bill to avoid disruption of your service. If you would like to make a payment press three. To hear your choices again press the pound key.

(written after consulting a lunar chart)