All that was missing was the smoke

June 6, 2001

sitting there in the bar, i knew exactly what he meant. about feeling small. about feeling like a speck of dust in a pile of boulders. compared to their stories, my childhood was candy coated and rainbow colored. listening to them talk about what they went through, about what kids are going through right now, i felt as though i had grown up in a tiny gold case, sitting at the bottom of a velvet-lined jewelry box. safe.

but the energy, oh man, the energy we generated. i can still feel it swirling in my stomach.

that we could come from all walks of life and down a drink or two and look each other straight in the eye and completely understand every word is magic. we surpassed class, race and status and dove directly toward truth, which we realized is all any of us really want to reach.


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