Impatient impatient, fear I will be fossilized alive by this place. Bought the next bus ticket out of town and jumped on . Sped past shanty-towns and rubble lands and fog, so much fog—-it will freeze you inside-out if you don’t hurry now. I get lost to get found—find me dancing wildly to Billy Idol, chase down kids who got a lust for life, got struck dead lucky, gonna have ash-filled lungs in the morning. Let’s be merry. Let’s be merry until sunrise. Let me get the gray and dead out of me, let me sit real close to you until I remember what it means to feel and forget to breathe. And if you’ve a tattoo on your arm, let me kiss your face so I can have something to hold on to, when I leave this all behind.
Birthday party. Beautiful people. Killer live music, killer dance music. ASADO! Pisco. At one point I sat on a couch with a bunch of great people, listening to the birthday boy and his band jam it out in a room filled with old mattresses. The person who owned the building used to sell fake glasses, so apparently there are cardboard boxes filled with glasses frames. Had one, lost it, obvio.
Also, if the following songs are in your playlist, I probably love you.
“Rebel Yell” Billy Idol
“Lust for Life” Iggy Pop
“Modern Love” David Bowie.
But actually. Never been to a party I was so musically in-tune with. SO MUCH LOVE.