LovePremise

LovePremise L O V E P R E M I S E

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Contents

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6 11 13 17 18 20 22 24 29 32 38 40 44 48 52

Word from the Editor “Drive My Car” 2$tacks the “Sidekick” “Smoke and Mirrors” “Insomnia” “Portia” My First Poem “Used to Be / Half Past You” “Time” “Team of You” “Dream of the Night” “July” “Over My Head” “Reprise (From Heaven)” “Gray”

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May 18, 2017 - I would like to give a foreword to my album that releases at midnight (holy shit that’s real). I would like to thank the people that have been with me through this year and a half journey of musical productivity and musical insecurity. First, I would like to thank my mom and dad for dealing with my impatience and anxiety throughout this whole project (work and school included). I thank them for consoling me on most nights and letting me know that I do in fact have something special. Love them so much. Next, it’s mandatory that I thank my older BROTHERS (not my friends) Steve Ferri, Julian Sledge, and Chris Watts. I thank them for listening and always giving me insight along the way. I also thank them for the mini projects in between (cover art, videos, photos). Love y’all.

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Thank you, Rich Fabrizio! Thank you for being more than an engineer and co-producing this project with me. Thank you for your recommendations on the tracks and making sure every track sounded A1. This project would not have been possible without you! Thank you to my band players (or the 327 Rhythm Section) Tom Bitondo, Brian Doherty, Tim Veeder, my bass player Marshall Toppo, and my trumpet player Freddie Maxwell. I’ve said before that it was a blessing to collaborate with players that know music more than I know my own self and that still holds true. Thank you to all of you guys!

Thank you to my older sister Dominique who did the backing vocals on my song ‘Smoke and Mirrors.’ Love you and even though you don’t have a Facebook/Instagram, I know you’re stalking me and reading this lol. Thank you to Larry Lachmann, the mastering engineer of this project.

Thank you to the people/friends who listened to my very first song “Used to Be” on Soundcloud back in 2014 and continue to support me. As a shy/ quiet, mysterious guy, you have no idea what it means to have people listening to your work and reacting, whether positively or negatively. Like I said in the past, I’m only pressing start and this album is the beginning of much more work (and ultimately anxiety) to come.

With all this said, as a music lover and not an artist, this album is perhaps the most musical album that I have heard in awhile. I’m not going to review my own album (because that would be corny), but the music and production is the primary element to this story. Yes, this album is a story too (pretty much a two in one story deal). I’m a student and fan of literature and writing, so I figured why not utilize all my skills, right? Besides that, I hope that you enjoy the album and share if you like (which would be greatly appreciated). Search “Jonny Parks – The Portia LP” on your favorite music service, flip open the cover, and enjoy MY musical literature. Thank you all and of course there is STILL more to come.

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Drive My Car “Though my posting’s used, now I’m on sale if it’s only you”

“This boy! I can’t even describe what he’s doing to me. Yeah, he only drives a little ol’ Honda Civic, but that ain’t stopping him. Every turn he makes, everytime he hits those brakes, whenever he flicks those yellow headlights, every pore on my ageful face turns to red from white. He moves with ease with a smooth clutch that he knows I need.

Mhmm! But he never signals for me. Nope! He got his eye on ‘Ms Sexy Lady Carrera’ with curves for miles, hun. Yes, the way she maneuvers these Southern backroads is something worth filing on your radar gun. She do go fast... If you know what I mean. Ha! I’ll give her that. Flashing through red lights just to taunt up his yellow skin. Put spikes in the road, miss thang will run over them twice and again. It’s a damn shame what she doing to him! That boy don’t know he needs a real woman. One that can take her time. One that come with a little battle scars on the side. ‘Though the heat don’t work, baby, I will find a way to warm your heart inside.’ Ha! You know what I mean? Yeah, that’s what he needs. My El Camino is open just give it a drive, baby. I swear that boy don’t even know what he missing, real talk!

I see him putting in overtime down at that little country club where he work at. Still looking cute as always. That’s probably the reason why he like ‘little fast girl’ in the first place.

All them damn little rich, little fine thangs walking around there. Knowing he’s one of a kind there trying to make him feel all good and important and loved. And you know they the types that wear no underwear... Ha! Baby, I swear! He don’t even know he don’t need all that. Come and spend time with me, ‘Civic Boy,’ we could make love right in the back of my El Camino where the leaves lay and tousled clothes come to relax.”

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Color/ 1 Min, 23 Sec Starring: Steven Ferri Director: Jonny Parks Written by: Jonny Parks WARNING: May cause tears due to severe emotion.

SIDEkick

“I remember I was a little younger than her... a little younger means by a few years. I absolutely fell for her. She’d tell me to roll over in a pool of nails, I’d roll. Fall in a flood of shards, I’d fall just to make her happy. This woman had me by the strings of my air forces. Ahh man... the hours I’d just sit at my sidekick waiting for her text. I remember at that time *chuckle* I thought I was the shit. Didn’t matter to me that everyone thought I was strange, weird, or awkward.

I had her at my side and she made me feel like a man when I was only a boy at heart. *Pause* Then... you know... one day she just looked the other way. She didn’t text anymore. I couldn’t call her anymore. I remember beating myself up every night because it got to me that she disappeared. I thought, ‘maybe I am weird and strange like everyone thinks.’ And since I knew she wanted nothing to do with me, I wanted her like never before. I still think about her to this day though she’s long gone. *Sigh* You don’t mind if I turn on the radio do you?... What was her name?... Her name was...”

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11pm on a damp and cloudy Saturday night. I make my way into a brightly lit McDonald’s that’s half dead inside a mall that has not aged since the 1980s. I’m talking Pacman arcade machine, claw-toy machines, and fluorescent ‘welcome’ signs. This particular McDonald’s is the choice of frequent food runs for recent SUNY Purchase New Media graduate Steven Ferri,who has been doing collaborative visual work for various artists in New York (most notably myself). I take a seat inside the vaporwave-y looking McDonald’s, sitting next to perhaps the scariest toy statue of Ronald McDonald I think I’ve ever seen. I wait about 10 minutes alone at a booth before a man shows up to my table wearing a backwards Starter cap, black Timberland boots, and peach-colored jogger sweatpants. This was the man known to many named 2$tacks: the painter, video director, and photographer (also known by just “Steven Ferri”). He takes a seat across from me, unzips his Alpha jacket, and checks his gold cuban link being worn around his neck.

Jonny: Steven Ferri aka 2$tacks aka Dos Stackos, thank you for agreeing to do this interview tonight inside this old ass McDonald’s. As always, I truly appreciate it.

Dos: No doubt, bro. Anytime.

Jonny: I’ll get right to it. You’re on my album ‘The Portia LP.’ You’re the speaker of the track ‘Sidekick.’ Is that story and relationship in particular somewhat true to your life?

Dos: It’s true to a certain extent.

Jonny: Could you give me some detail on the person and relationship you are talking about?

Dos:Back like 5 years ago, I was dating this girl I met on a dating website. She wasn’t living [in Westchester], she was staying with her aunt and uncle and we decided to finally meet up.

Jonny: So it started off as an online fling kinda thing. How’d that feel to you at first?

Dos: It was really cool. When we first met, it felt like we have known each other for a long time even though it was our first time meeting.We hung out at my place and just chilled and watched movies all day.

Jonny: So it sounds like you guys hit it off right from the start.

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Dos: Well actually, after that day, she kinda stopped answering me for a few days. I was worried... not gonna lie. I was thinking, “Shit, this is happening all over again.” I eventually brushed it off because I thought that there was no way that she was just gonna dub me just like that.

Jonny: Something we all go through at some point. *Laughter*

Dos: Yeah, man. She ended up hitting me up after that New Year’s though explaining she just lost her phone. From there we started dating.

Jonny: Wow. Would you say that this relationship was one of the most crucial relationships you’ve had?

Dos: Definitely. It felt like a marriage at only 20-years-old. We spent everyday together even when I was in school. It felt like some fantasy/fairytale type shit.

We’d complete each other’s sentences, she’d know how I’d feel without me having to even verbally express it. It felt dope to have someone like you just as much or more than you like them.

Jonny: I feel you. You’re not dating her anymore, are you?

Dos: Nah

Jonny: That must’ve been tough. Sounds like she could’ve been your favorite.

Dos: It was definitely rough when we broke up. I felt like I lost a piece of me. Even till this day it still gets to me because it was so sudden.

Jonny: If you don’t mind me asking, how did you guys split?

Dos: Well... I actually cheated on her towards us arguing more and more about the smallest things. She didn’t do anything bad in particular, which makes it hard for me to even swallow that pill of what I’ve done even today.

Jonny: You cheating was that final nail in the coffin?

Dos: Not quite. As I said, we would argue more and more and eventually we grew apart and mentally went our separate ways before we broke up officially.

Jonny: Damn, dude. Being that this seemed like such an important relationship to both of you, I’m sure you heard from her again after the breakup at some point, right?

Dos: Well... What’s funny is that maybe a year later, I started dating this other girl. For some reason though, I had this dream that I was still dating that “love of my life” Two months into me dating this other girl, I broke up with her. The very next day, guess who calls me?

Jonny: Oh shit...

Dos: Yeah, I know. I couldn’t believe it. I got so nervous.

Jonny: Did you guys make up?

Dos: Of course. We hung out again for a day.

It felt like everything was good all over again. I felt no anger. No sadness. It just felt right being with her again.

Jonny: What did you guys talk about?

Dos: Just the stuff that she went through during our break and what she was going through. I don’t think I ever told you this, but she actually got pregnant from another dude during our time apart. She was going through a lot and I felt for her.

Jonny: No, you’ve never told me that. That’s crazy, man.

Dos: Yeah... But right after that day of us hanging out, I stopped hearing from her yet again. At that time, I felt like that was the last straw. I really had to use my self-control to refrain myself from hitting her up or calling because I didn’t want to infringe on her life. I didn’t want to cause any more emotional wear on myself. It was hard, bro.

Jonny: Definitely... Since this relationship was some years ago when your were both literally and mentally younger than you are now, do you feel that 18-20-yearolds have a true sense of what love is?

Dos: It was different then. Social media wasn’t as big as it is today. Today, I think 18-20-year-olds are more likely to fall for someone based off what they see on the outside because of what’s shared on their instagram story rather than falling for someone because they have a dope

ass personality.

Jonny: Superfacts.

Dos: Yeah. I can 100% say that I loved this girl because we had something much deeper than just dope sex. We connected mentally with each other and I’ve never and still have not felt that since with any other girl.

I also feel that with this generational gap, relationships just aren’t cool anymore with these new 18-20-year-olds.

Everything is sexualized. I kinda even see it with people our age, sadly.

Jonny: Hell yeah. Well... Being that this woman came in and out of your life as you say, what would you do if you received a text or call from her right at this moment?

Dos: Shit... I honestly don’t know. At this point, I’d have to sleep on that.

Jonny: No “third time’s the charm?”

Dos: Honestly, probably not.

Jonny: Do you ever see yourself getting married?

Random... but that’s a brother-to-brother question that I’m not sure if I have ever asked you.

Dos: Oh, yes. Definitely. My wedding has got to have some super artsy shit though. Leopards and fluorescent lights and shit like that.

Jonny: I got you with the performance too during the reception.

Dos: Good looks.

Jonny: Ok... one last question. If this girl, the old “love of your life,” was right in front of you at this very moment, what would you say to her?

Dos: I’d ask how she’s doing. I’d ask how she’s been. I’d tell her how she made me feel. I’d update her on my life. That’s it. I wouldn’t plead for her back. She knows she caused me pain in the past. She knows that I had to move on.

Jonny: Exactly. Time is key. Time is the healer of all wounds. Steven, once again I appreciate you taking the time out to do this interview with me. Looking forward to working with you on my next project, brother.

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“I’m just going to call her again, and again and again. Sitting here... sipping on Sherry but thinking of her. The sounds of James Brown’s ‘Try Me’ emit from this radio. Out of my mind but that’s nothing she doesn’t already know. On my way aimlessly to Anderson Hill Road. Taking my Carrera 911 out in the cold in the middle of nowhere. On my way there I meet a man who looks just like me. Gap teeth, tan skin, short hair, and under six feet. He begs for a different kind of green I won’t provide because the laces of his shoes aren’t as clean as mine. The kind of green I see all the time in a country club filled with people with low self-esteem. ‘Can you help me out, sir?’ He says, ‘sure.’ I say to him, ‘I can’t give you much of what you’re looking for, but I have this phone. She probably won’t call anyway.’ That’s the moment my heart fell through the floor. That realization. I exchange the promise of a Sidekick 3 for his hand on a half-dead camera to record me. Surrounded by woods, icy dirt roads, and trees. Shitty props to make the scene... Mirrors, work lights, and smoke machines resembling 80’s sitcom TV. I don’t think I’ll ever come down from this high she’s got me leading to believe.

‘Action!’ I sing and I plead. If she didn’t take me seriously before, this is the final nail in the coffin. I’m coughing and dying (inside). Soaking in the freeze to further torture myself for crying. The man on the opposite end of the cam is doing the best he can but quickly shifts his attention when he sees me practically lying on the dirty, icy floor. And as I drop my Sidekick to the floor, my amatuer cameraman sidekick drops to catch that final shot of the phone he’s been promised from before. That’s it. No more.

I get up and walk back to my Carrera without saying a word to the amateur cameraman, letting him have both the camera and phone. To this day I don’t know what the cameraman has done with that footage. I do know that the moment I opened my car door to drive off that night, the phone now in the possession of the cameraman buzzed once. The cameraman answered to his new Sidekick.”

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i n s o m n i. a

no motorcycles on my FloodConscious state of mind. mind you you. I’m. not.

Sleep I’m thinking of you and what i can’t do from afar. Now. you got me so gasssed. Oil spiLls help me loosen up the handle barrrrrrr revving and revvingggg. what is real. and what is friction. 0 - 60 in record time. all by thinking of you and what i can do from so far. what it sounds likeee when disposable doves cry and fall by my pajama. bottom’s. p o c k e t. gone and always forgotten. 3am and time to put the kickstand on lock. but i cannot SLEep and and seem to be in an end;less loop of astral week-s. dreaming and fading in and out of you. the way young lovers do. it’s been wEeks since i’ve been THis weakk. but i can’t. Sleep And this thought of you has never been new. you you. only allowed to be my muse. for a dream. or when i want to blow.

Off. some. steam. but my grip on this is never enough. please. dream with me as i clutch and clutch. The sheets. pull over my still-life;less body. but i somehow continyouu to touch.

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“There’s something about the chase and pursuit that I love. The pursuit of happyness, the pursuit of my professional dreams, and the pursuit of the love of my life. It gives me inner purpose, you know? Why settle for Breyers when I could be scoffing down Ben & Jerry’s? No, actually... I could be having Coldstone.

The Porsche of all ice cream. Birthday Cake Remix?

Say no more! So what if Breyers is cheaper. So what if Breyers (of any flavor) is never out of stock and is always there in the store freezer when Cinnamon Buns is all out. So what if Breyers has that Waffle Cone with chocolately chips and that light but so sweet... caramel swirl. I mean... it’s not that bad, but I’m supposed to love Coldstone, right? At $8 for three scoops, I better love it! Yeah, yeah... I know what you’re thinking. ‘But Breyers Waffle Cone ice cream

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is only $4 for a whole 48oz and you always come back to it when you get bored of Ben & Jerry’s.’ I know. I’ve thought about that too. Ahh fuck... What’s happening. Geez... You know what? You always do this. Every time you think about ‘ice cream,’ you always think about the other choice. The choice you know that’s always there for you. The choice that’s always in your freezer when you realize that the grass isn’t always greener... Well in this case it would be realizing that the ice cream base isn’t always sweeter.

The choice you feel most comfortable with at night when you’re all alone in your pj’s. The same choice that makes you lose sleep at night because you’re thinking about how she isn’t laying right there next to you. She has this way... it has this way... I meant to say ‘it.’ Dammit. I guess the cat’s out of the bag, now!

No, asshole. I’m not really talking about ice cream.”

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Used to Be / Half Past You (1999) KEVIN Want to see a movie tonight, guys? It may be the last time we go together before we finally turn into men. *laughter* JIM Ehh... I think I may skip this one out. I still feel embarrassed to even show my face around here.

STIFFLER Shut up, Jim! That's your fault! You had your shot and you blew it! Stop being such a pussy! Guys, I hear The Matrix is fucking awesome. I heard Neo and Trinity get it on too. Awww yeahhhh! *dry humps Jim’s chair* OZ Can you stop thinking about sex every minute, Stiffler? Geez! *punches Stiffler’s arm playfully* Anyways, I’d like to see The Mummy. The Mummy or Office Space sounds pretty good.

JIM Whatever... Office Space sounds alright I guess. I’ve really been into Beavis and Butthead lately anyway. Finch?

FINCH I’m more of a James Bond man... so The World Is Not Enough. But why not see American Beauty or Eyes Wide Shut? We should be watching something to mature our young minds for the long road of love that we have ahead of us.

But I’m also fine with The Matrix.

KEVIN Well, that didn’t help us at all. Thanks, Finch.

FINCH Don’t mention it.

JIM Anyways, Office Space or not? *Sigh* I should really be getting some rest or doing some homework or something but you guys insist on seeing a movie tonight.

OZ Relax, Jim! *laughs* You’ve been so bugged out lately. What’s the deal?

STIFFLER I agree. You’re not like how you used to be, dude. Ever since you guys made that pussy pact and Mr. Levenstein caught you humping that warm sweet apple pie you’ve been acting differently. Is someone squeezing your tiny nutsack, Jimmy?

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FINCH I second that.

JIM No, guys! I’m just stressed, alright! I don’t know if this whole thing with Nadia is going to work out. And if that doesn’t work out then I don’t know who I’m going to go to prom with. If I have no one to go to prom with then I automatically lose the pact.

KEVIN Jim, calm down. We’ll definitely help you out before it happens, man. We’re all going to help each other out. That’s why we made this pact.

STIFFLER Yeah. We all saw your disaster on webcam, champ! *laughter* Don’t worry, buddy! We’ll get little Jimmy ready with some loosey by that time!

JIM Gee... thanks, Stiff.

OZ Yeah, man. You never know who you may run into along the way. The next girl may sweep your heart up and she may be the one.

JIM She’s the hottest girl in school. I don’t think any of that matters.

STIFFLER All that theater bullshit must be getting to your head, Oz. Jim, don’t listen to this asshole. We’ll find you something easy. You gotta work your way up in this game, shitface.

JIM What if Oz is right? What if the next girl I hook up with is the one? We go to prom, have sex, then have sex a few more times. Eventually, she’s just going to get tired of me. She would obviously know she’s “training” for Nadia. I’m sure she would have seen that embarrassing video too. Then what?

Would Nadia take me after that? Would she even be friends with me? Would I be able to go back to how me and Nadia used to be? Or would she move on?

OZ That’s just a risk you’re going to have to be willing to take, buddy.

KEVIN Yeah, Jim. Look at me and Vicky. We’ve been back and forth for awhile now.

I’m still not sure if I’m the one for her after senior year. But I’m thinking about now. I think I really have a shot with her now. So do you with Nadia or whoever it is, man.

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FINCH You know, Jim, Kevin is right. We can’t dwell on such insignificant moments at such a youthful age. What happened in the past is a problem of yesterday. We need to concentrate on the time that is now and let tomorrow be a worry for tomorrow.

STIFFLER Hey, Jackass, are you going to say anything that actually adds to the conversation?

OZ Alright, enough with the insults, Stiffler. What do you say, guys? Let’s go watch Office Space and forget about girls for a couple of hours, huh?

KEVIN I’m with it.

JIM *Sigh* Fine. Alright.

FINCH I said I was a James Bond man but I’ll make this exception for Jim. Stiffler?

STIFFLER Whatever! I’ll go but don’t you assholes be surprised if I walk out halfway with some hot chick I picked up in the theater after we get all touchy touchy!

JIM Whatever, Stiff. Let’s just go.

(THE FIVE FRIENDS EXIT JIM’S ROOM IN UNISON WITH STIFFLER TRAILING BEHIND)

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“ lright, that was Jonny Parks, straight down the interstate from New York with his new song ‘Smoke and Mirrors’ here at KXJK Memphis Classic Hits! And here’s the next release off ‘The Portia LP’ - ‘Time’ featuring the 327 Rhythm Section”

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the show. Please!” Jackson says.

“And by the way, youngblood... that’s Mr. Parks to you, sucka!”

Jonny adds with his finger now in the face of his manager Jackson.

Now, Jonny and Jackson have been friends for years. Shit, they’ve been friends for so long, they were there for each other when they couldn’t even wipe their own backsides. 24 years to be exact. By age 23, little Jonny was the talk of the town with his first hit song “Smoke and Mirrors.” Boy! I remember it like it was yesterday! Damn good song!

Anyways... by that point, little Jonny had a little buzz goin’ on around him. So he figured, “why not hire my best friend as my manager.” Ha! Any idiot knows not to mix family with business. Ol’ dumbass! As you can probably guess, it did not work out at all. “Here’s your drink, ‘Mr. Parks’,” Jackson says with a face straight as the hairline of his

“We’re late but we’re finally pillowy fro. “Thanks, youngblood! on for rehearsal in 3... 2...,” a crew Now we can get back to doin’ this member for The Tonight Show with rehearsin’! I’ma make a name for Johnny Carson says in a snarky myself, you, you, you, and whoever high-pitched voice. “Hol’ up, Hol’ the hell this is!” Jonny says as he up! I ain’t got my muhfuckin’ continuously points the pistol of a drink! Somebody go get me my finger he has. drink or I ain’t performing for no

“Actually...” the crew memone! To hell with this little show!” ber intercepts. “Mr. Carson now a man belts out wearing a glittery wants to cancel the music act for yellow jumpsuit with the word tonight and continue with comedian “sex” right at his abdomen. “Jonny, Don Rickles,” he adds. “Whatchu we have to rehearse for the show. mean, young cat? I ain’t gonna be Perhaps the biggest performance of performin’ tonight? Carson is just your career so far. Now may not be gonna cancel on me like that?” the best time to have a drink, don’t Jonny questions. “Yeah... and I you think?” Jackson, the manager quote him, ‘We don’t have time for of the performer says. “Yeah, that’s musicians with their heads shoved all good, partner. But if I don’t have far up their own asses. I’ve never my drink I won’t be havin’ a good heard of the kid anyway. Tell him to time. And if I ain’t havin’ a good go home. Call Rickles!’ then he just time, then none of these muhfuckleft the room,” the crew member ers is gonna have a good time, ya said as if bees don’t affect him. “So dig!” “Fine, Jonny... Somebody get you’re going to have to leave now. his drink so we can move on with I’ll be taking this, this, and this,”

TI ME

the crew member approaches Jonny and his entourage to disband them of their complimentary mugs and donuts. “Raul will escort you to the front exit. Have a great day!” he adds.

A silence fills the room so jarring you can hear the soul glo drip from Jonny’s now frizzy pompadour. “Man, this is all your fault!” Jonny shouts to Jackson.

“You supposed to manage my time, you supposed to talk to these industry cats, you supposed to -” “What? Supposed to do what else? Wipe your ass for you too?”

Jackson forcefully interrupts. “I’ve been doing EVERYTHING for you including getting your ‘Smokey Mirrors’ song on the radio since you started and you could never get that through your stupid helmet hairdo.

You’ve never thanked me or paid me. Nothing!”

“Well that’s what comes with the territory, partner! You dealing with a musician! I ain’t got time for your sad shit right now! I got hits to make and ladies to please!”

Jonny says as he combs his frizzy hair with his shaky pencil-like fingers. “This was supposed to be your time to shine, Jonny! Our time! This was supposed to be the moment we made something really happen with this music. Now you blew it because your head is bigger than yours and my hair put together!” Jackson argues.

“Hol’ up, youngblood,” Jonny says quickly cutting off Jackson.

“Our time? This is MY time. YOU are on MY time, partner. You understand that? And since YOU are on MY time, your time is no longer required for Jonny. You hear that, partner? I ain’t that fool you used to know, ya dig!” Jonny says. Jackson now stares at the ground beneath him as if someone had just broke L O V E P R E M I S E

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Photo by BBC

his favorite pick comb right in front of his very eyes.

With delay, Jackson says, “Well if that’s the case ‘partner’ I’m - no... WE are outta here. Let’s go boys!”

Following Jackson pulling the final plug out from the amp that would be Jonny, Jackson along with Jonny’s entourage walk out the studio set without the need for Raul. “That’s how it’s gonna be, clowns? Fine.

I ain’t got time for none of ya’ll suckas! You’ll see!

Jonny’s gonna have hit after hit after hit and all ya’ll gonna want a piece of my change. Nope! Sorry! Jonny is on his own time now, suckas!” Jonny screams out to what he thinks is an empty room. Seconds later, Jonny gets a tap on his shoulder from behind. “Let’s go, dude.

I really don’t have time for this. Don Rickles is gonna be here in 5 minutes,” Raul says.

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“ can’t help but to think that God must’ve placed me in this driver’s seat for a reason. A little ways down the road, I check my rearview mirror because you never know what life hands back at you. The cameraman who found the new love of his life inside a phone has completely disappeared. Now all alone and Sherry in the passenger’s seat has also vanished to try and comfort me. Back at the destination that houses the same people with low self-esteem, I climb my way up to my room to imagine my old sidekick back on my team. Apparitions of what could be and epiphanies later, I realize my girls are always with me to pull me back in purgatory. Sherry, Stella, Brandy and so many more to lead me out of the inferno that stands before me. One, two, three, four of them and from what my vision can tell, a couple more of me. The team in me soul searching only to find me mentally in pieces shattered on the floor.

My heart might have escaped my chest and fell through ten feet under, but I have to wonder if this temporary me is worth being lost in thought of something before fading into a permanent abyss.”

untill we...

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PLAYER 1: Fading into a permanent abyss completes the feeling of somethingness. Stella riding shotgun with my finger holding the trigger past the first shot. Brandy in the backseat with her hands sprinkled across my chest bracing me for the flood of lost dreams ahead. Thinking, “If I can die of thirst, then I can wash my face and fade right back into her arms.” I couldn’t imagine life without them. Then and now. Then again, we somehow end up parting ways until I meet their doppelganger sent cool from the skies of Heaven’s door. Forgetting time exists, nostalgia shattered in pieces of the car floor trying to slither its way to the driver’s seat to remind me of darker nights. But the thought of darker nights forces me to push the pedal further to the floor to compete with the lingering thoughts of my former shell. My mind resides in Heaven, but deep down I know my heart already belongs to Hell. Ounces and ounces savor to fill up the car. Deterioration steals the body but I mainly cheer and yell as I trance deeper into the fadeaway. I’ve finally swam far enough to get a taste of the permanent abyss, but all I can ask is, “Do you still love me, Chardonnay?” What has come over my head? Who is over my head? Half-awake but my clouds have still not turned completely gray. I proceed to swim and swim further though the last hope of sun is soaking in my eyes. I swim and I swim, but all I can say and see is, “Where’s my girl Brandy?

Where’s my girl Sherry? Where’s my girl Stella? Where’s my girl Remy?”

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Verse: Look past the windowpane unsheathe the clouds they're doses of bad news (“Basically, put the hallucinogenic drugs aside for a second and lets look at a different drug that’s mainly white and powdery. Also very harmful.”)

Can’t believe since we left the room, the blizzard of us two greets flakes with frosted pores (“Wait a second, we’ve broken up and we’re using this white, powdery drug harder than we would be using if we were together? Geez.”)

Chorus: And I believe a hit of July would take us back to June (“A hit of July? Really? Ha! Yes, I guess you’ve figured out by now that July is a euphemism for that white, powdery substance that I touched upon earlier (no pun). And yes, I believe here that if we were to do it again, we’d be back to normal in our relationship... whatever that is.”)

Ever since the hail in my mind, you know why (“Plus five points for that weather pun. Look... obviously I’ve got some issues I need to work out for myself. But you already know this. You’ve known this since we ‘removed the curtains’ in our relationship.”)

Verse 2: December’s in the mood and the rail that we hold has blown us out our home (“Looks like it’s Winter, again. You KNOW how things work out when it’s NOT Summer time between us.”)

Autumn was a state of mind. Pair-a-dice we tried to chase ‘til we lost track of time (“What the hell happened during those Autumn months though? We were in such purgatory trying to chase a pair-a-dice *eye wink* to get us back to how we used to be. At least I was trying to get us back to those good ol’ days”)

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In fact they’re all the same, remove the curtains blotter down our blues (“Well, all these damn drugs are the same. Let’s just do the LSD to get past whatever it is we’re going through.”)

It’s been a while so the ice is loose, as summer comes around I ponder days of yore (“We’ve been out of this crazy relationship for quite sometime now. Therefore, the ice has melted.

Dammit! I really miss the days when MY drug use was a little more controlled.”)

And because the snow drives us wild, it put us in a mood (“Snow? In July? Driving us wild? But didn’t I just say that if we were to take this drug again we’d be back to normal? These damn drugs have got me contradicting myself! What the hell is wrong with me?!”)

‘Cause Summer thinks you’re one of a kind in July (“Hey, babe, I was in a weird state of mind when I wrote this. July is in the season of Summer. Summer is presumably when we’ve had our best moments due to this, that and the third.”)

So I’ll try “Waking Up Alone” with “Tears Drying on Their Own” Winehouse repeats (“You already know Amy Winehouse is my favorite female singer of all time. But you don’t want to watch me go down the same path she went down. You know the path she went down. *Sigh* Rest in peace, Amy.”)

Plus, the neighbors say it’s on our face. Blunt leaves and white ash have occupied our place. (“Ok... even the engineer at the studio didn’t know what the hell this meant when I sang it. Um... I guess our friends have seen us begin to fall apart early on. Now the remaining white, powdery substance still lingers in our old home and acts as dust. Yeah... that’s it!”)

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“over my head!”

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Photo by Steven Ferri

“Dear Lord, I had a rough day and I need help. Now, I don’t do this very often and I’m sorry for that. But.. Um... I need... I need...,” a man says with his eyes clenched and with his elbows to the edge of his dingy, slanted bed. “Daddy?

What are you doing on the floor?

Did you lose something? Can I help find it?” an 8-year-old boy ponders as he flails his arms in his Curious George pajamas. “No, son. I didn’t lose anything. I’m just doing a bit of praying is all,” the man says as he gets up off the floor and dusts off his tired shirt and tie as if he had been doing something shameful.

“How about we go back to bed?

C’mon, let’s go, champ. Take my hand.”

“Daddy, what’s praying,” the boy asks, ignoring his father’s lone hand to lead him back to his fortress. “Well, sonny, praying is when you ask God to help you out with something. You pray when you have a problem,” the father replies with dodgy eyes and shaky voice. “How come I’ve never seen you pray before, daddy?” the boy asks as he points his ruler sized arm straight to his father’s tense mug.

A silence fills the father’s unheated trailer-sized room. The buzz of a fly that whizzed by pauses time and momentarily distracts the father from answering his son’s question.

“How come I’ve never seen you pray before, daddy?” the son asks again. “Well, I haven’t had much to pray about lately until now.”

The son pauses. With the face as puzzled as the little monkey that’s on his pajama shirt, he asks, “Can you teach me how to pray, daddy?

Please! Teach me how to pray!”

“It’s late, son. C’mon, we need to get you back to bed. You have school tomorrow,” the father responds while he grabs his son’s

hand. “But, dad, I had a bad dream.

That’s why I came in here. I’m scared!” the boy says with a tiny smirk on his face. The father knowing that his son is lying finally gives in. With a quick exhale of air, the father says, “Alright, sonny, we can do a quick prayer then we take you back to bed, okay?” Without saying anything, the son’s mouth opens up wide showing his clenched, half missing teeth while his fluffy cheeks nearly hit the bottom of his eyes. The son follows his father two feet to the side of the dingy, slanted bed.

“Alright, so just get down on both knees just like this and put both your hands together like this,” the father explains. The son stands in stone for a split second as he examines his father knelt down on the floor of his bedroom. “Let’s go, sonny. Just like this,” the father says. The son finally gets down on both knees with his hands clasped together next to his father providing no gap between the two. “Now what do I do, daddy?” the boy asks.

The father now seemingly just as intrigued as the son looks up and down back at his son and says, “Well, now you close your eyes and you pray.” The son closes his eyes shut quicker than the father can finish his instruction. “Now what, daddy? I don’t know what to pray about,” the son says. “Pray about the bad dream you had and wish it never comes back,” the father says.

A sudden silence fills the air once again. This time for a total of five seconds. “Did you pray, son?” the father asks nervously. “No, daddy.

I don’t know what I’m doing here, remember?” the son says before his fluffy cheeks nearly hit the bottom of his eyes once again. “Can you just pray out loud and I say what you say?” the son asks. The father’s

heart begins to beat faster through his dollar store tie on his jumpy chest. “Fine, sonny. Um... close your eyes again and just repeat after me... Dear Lord...,” “Dear Lord...,” the son repeats in the same cadence as his father. “I know I don’t pray a lot but I need your help,” the father says followed by the son in the same nervous and shaky dynamic.

“I’ve had some issues and I want to apologize to you and ask for your forgiveness. You’ve been believing in me, Lord, and I’ve been cheating on you. You’ve blessed me with precious life and a beautiful child and all I am attached to are glass bottles and meaningless nights. Please forgive me, Lord. I am so sorry that I cannot change the way I feel for your love. I am so sorry for taking you for granted and not taking your hand sooner. You’ve been above my head at all times blessing me and my child and I’ve always looked the other way. Thank you, Lord for this life you have given me and I vouch to you and my son, the only two I have in this life, that I will grow and become a better man. From this day forward, Lord. Please bless my son, Lord as I provide for him and teach him to not be the man that I’ve grown to be. Thank you, Thank you, Lord for the blessings I’ve been too blind to see. Amen.”

For the third time, a silence fills the air, this time longer than previous silences. The same fly that whizzed by comes around again and accidently lands in the small pool of saltwater on the floor between the father’s knees. The son once again raises his cheeks to the bottom of his own eyes with the corner of his lips pointing upward. “Do you expect me to repeat all of that, daddy?” the son asks.

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You love you I love we We don’t exist We is only temporary, it’s what’s in between Castles made of sand jimmied into two pillars Let me know if my love is only filler Filling up an empty soul, imaginary timber Land erodes our love, broken hills, fallen trees It’s the autumn breeze, it caught your eye Now I’m off the lease And since this life is only rented Everytime I close my eyes it’s just a tease Into the world Without you A bloody reality Virtual, But I can’t make believe I fell short of what your universe expects from me And that caught your eye ‘Cause I’m blindfolded to half the man but swear I tried Dial nine, Dial nine A dying heart is on the line Romanticize of what I used to be For I hope my blood to flow one last time - to Mary 48

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GR

STORY BY JO

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RAY

ONNY PARKS

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It never occurred to me that sometimes all people need is a conversation to get them through the day. In 20+ years, I’ve learned that just asking how an individual is feeling is enough to brighten someone’s gloomy day. Signs from God come in all shapes and sizes, as do peculiar stories and situations. One frigid day in January, I walked outside of a Sam Ash music store to collect my only electric guitar from repair. I run into a man with mud-stained New Balances, smeared khakis, dreary military jacket, with long dirty blond hair and a beard that touched the very top of his chest.

Upon noticing this man, I looked down to my customized Adidas Tubulars to avoid any possible conversation. With my leather hard shell case in my right hand, the man with dirty blond hair sitting on a bench nearby stops me and asks, “what kinda guitar you got there?” Though he asked me this question, I knew I had several choices rather than one. I could’ve either: kept my head down and walked without acknowledging the man, lied to him and kept the conversation short, or told him the truth. “This is a hollow-body electric guitar,” I told him. From that point on, we continue to converse about guitars, as he also claimed to be a player, carrying a half-broken acoustic guitar in a dirty shopping cart with a cane, extra jackets and blankets. Though we are both having a conversation about similar interests, what shocked me the most is that the conversation shifted into what his sole interests are as well as a bit into his personal life.

We had talked for minutes upon minutes about the best guitarists to ever grace a track as well as our own writing and creations individually. The man who had the same guitar/music interests as me showed me his multiple drawings and even explained to me that the drawings were part of a children’s inspirational book he had wanted to produce. Multiple drawings of fantasy creatures such as: dragons, winged horses, and elves were buried in the bottom of his shopping cart that he had rolled with him wherever he went. The man went on to explain to me that he had wished to be as free as the winged horse that he had often drawn in different variations. He hoped that police would stop harassing him on the street for just sitting on a bench in the night hours. He had hoped to see his daughter, the woman of his life purposely avoiding him for moving to the east coast and things not working out as planned. He had hoped to inspire kids through his drawing book to become leaders and to even possibly become President of the United States. From this shifting conversation, the man and I had learned about each other and what life is like through our perspective lenses. It turned out that the man and I had multiple things in common in the society that we live in today.

After talking for over an hour, the man took of his wool glove protecting his hand from the striking cold and presented it to me in hopes to shake my hand and to thank me for taking the time out to talk with him. At that moment, I had froze as I was unsure what to do and if I really wanted to shake a homeless man’s hand. Before pausing long enough to raise suspicion of skepticism, I presented my hand forward and shook the man’s hand and also thanked him for such an enlightening conversation.

After that moment, the man smiled at me and said that many people look the other way or look down right at their feet when he tries to engage in conversation because of his situation and appearance. He thanked me for stopping and hearing his thoughts and story in such a currently cold atmosphere. Right before we parted ways, the man asked me my name; I told him my name is “Jon.” The man replied and said that his name is also “John” and that due to his last name, he went by “JC” for short. As I left from having the unexpected conversation with the man, I chuckled to myself realizing the man’s initials were that of an important figure that had not quite been in my life since I’ve been in my 20s.

I chuckled because now knowing his initials, this could’ve been an odd coincidence or that the man could’ve honestly been crazy.

A few days later, I walked past the same Sam Ash music store where I had first met JC. I realized that he had been parked at that same bench, only this time his back was facing the front of the store where I was passing. Upon seeing him at first glance, I quickly looked at him without him turning fast enough to see me. At that moment, I looked down at my customized Adidas Tubulars and L Osaying V E Pabsolutely R E M I S nothing E 55 proceeded to walk faster, to JC.

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