runner_ups raze the show should have been a disaster. every rehearsal was a pile of shit kicked around by people who didn't care how they sounded. i was the unpaid janitor choking on the stink of it all. most of the time half the band didn't even show up. the best we ever sounded was when it was just the three of us. me, him, and his brother. we sang harmonies that made the hair on the back of my neck stand tall. no one who wasn't in the room that night got to hear the rough magic we conjured. so nothing was as well-oiled as it would have been if i was the one calling the shots. but it didn't all fall apart the way i thought it might. kaitlin had a cast on her leg she never bothered to explain. theresa and her friends were too drunk and ignorant to shut the hell up, sit down, and listen to the music. my dad had to stand on a chair to see me over their heads. i drenched my hollow body electric in delay that passed for reverb and worked around the dead key on my korg triton. we closed with the sixth song on "smoke ring for my halo". steve sang it with an edge kurt didn't give it on the album. i shoved everything i had into my fingers and wailed an f sharp above his b flat. eight years and change later, time has twisted what was already true then into a sad soul tattoo. when it's looking dark, punch the future in the face. instead of standing, i'm running around. the sharpest tool in school don't even know what's up. my best friend's long gone. but i got runner ups. yeah. 221213 what's it to you? who go blather from