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  • Writer's picturerobertsavela

Remembering (Nirvana's Bleach)

For the loser, for the poser - In the past of thick ambience first riff best riff, a brain fever of cheap cigarettes and nomad-rock beach tans and bikes what a weekend, a weekend of mental excitement vagabonds of arts and crafts flannel and army clothes multiple cities have the mild pleasure of company and seduction. Don’t wake me downer-surrealism fudge brownie textures and rock ‘n’ roll draggin’ harmonies dream drama imagery of fast cars and faster bar stools sometimes on a patio next to a river, a river of deceit and long conversations about meow-box existentialism, we can be zeros angst and hate Nirvana tangled dream pop rock grindapolis-grunge-surface watch the mountains grow in rainy soggy hooks of the Pacific Northwest fuzz heavy hilly trips and flowers of evil hot springs nudity summer of action-of-the-mind suns and sunburns and a few bucks for the street peeps meister indulgence keepin’ on negative creep proto-sludge.

Social function fits and desertion are early 90s make-outs and roll the throw-down bones I Ching and cheap vodka highs and lows don’t drive into that cornfield mud-bog need bigger tires and some horsepower solid and dense. Vicious vices snuff eating dirthouse livin’ dead cat bag on the floor and dead iguana still sittin’ in a fish tank ego-party killed it we think…? Spray paint and beer kegs drinking 40s dyed hair buck twenty ephedrine pops, shitty graffiti and shittier beer and flickering streetlights. A CBD relieve the pain smoke machine doesn’t help the fact but only for the punks and gods and longhairs resin scrape chunks alcohol puking wherever daytime don’t matter. Gray skies juvy college detention kings with late-night gyros and Nevermind cassette tape smashing throw that muther against the wall sellouts-immoral-life they are so and so were they a played out scene? Crusty steps and bathroom floor read a fuckin’ book once enso spit and blood and cum and piss all things released from the body fragile body kicked in the neck with its liver and kidneys and stuff in there to keep the health hysteria stoned and keep the mind conscious with dynamic melodies and hopefully find higher consciousness Super b. Powers on earth reincarnation-death don’t care put it out to dry.

We could have done anything with quackery basement shows, oddball context art, Picasso and Warhol death prints period and the horror of it all one bulb lighting and some lighters and Mr. Greenleaves street candles maybe the 7-layer androgynous and fix the system got some signs and stencils to help and gather fists in the air and in-the-head love and acceptance and maybe jail time. Some people should have seen that sense derangement shite.


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