a postmodern roCk song

a postmodern roCk song Richard De La Rosa

There is something I envy about my younger disposition: a posture absent of any future plans. I can see it in the thoughtless swing of my backpack as it is thrown into a bus seat and used as a pillow, derelict and content on the drive back from a field trip. Some feeling that I could be just as comfortable left behind forever, or simply sitting in my living room. I can see it in the forgotten comment made thirty minutes earlier. As if the obstruent words were freed from my mind and the present moment was so fully lived in, that nothing in the past really mattered.

A hum arises from the incoherent sentences fighting to be heard. I imagine a place in my mind—a level only open to the ones who can magnify chaos and use it like a shield against the rising voices and dull conversations. I capture the abstract noise in a bundle labeled “chaos.” It holds a monotone consistency and my mind slips under the shield of noise. This is my postmodern rock song made up of youthful abandon.

The sun casts a bright light as it runs between the passing trees and the flashes of light are more noticeable in this mundanity. It creates an unnamed philosophy—worn like a halo—that could actualize Narnia or Peter Pan. This same philosophy, with a resilience as bright as the passing sun, made laughing easier and made inattentiveness affordable. There are times when I hear this postmodern rock song. An abstract feeling I try to capture and put into words, but the thoughts of youth are elusive and something about it seems so far away. Flash Essay

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