Shifted from Witness by Telethon

It’s 1 AM, 3 AM where you are. I don’t know where I am but I’m nodding at a bar and the man behind is filling my glass with water. There’s a dude standing next to me. Looks like George Takei. He gives me a once-over. Asks if I’m OK. I’m about a half a second from mumbling “Fuck Off” to his face. But instead I turn around and I ask him why he’d ask me that. He says “Buddy, it looks like you’ve had a pretty rough night. It looks like you’re in for an even worse morning. I’m betting you don’t know how to get home and, most of all, I thought the answer would be no.”

Sometimes I can feel the weight of privilege and I’m not really sure what to make of it. So I toss it around till it’s shifted or leave my card behind the bar till it’s lifted.

Closed out. Stumbling past the strip clubs in North Beach. They’re dead now and it’s unsettling. Move faster cause it’s dark and I am nervous. Follow the pyramid, man, hang a left at the bridge and the water. A simple task made a whole lot harder by blurred vision and an untied shoelace. Distracted, heaving, land on my face. But it’s fine. It’s totally fine.

So now I’m on Embarcadero and I’m staring at the street. I break into a sprint just to see what it feels like. Left you a three-and-a-half minute voicemail on your phone. The jist was that I love you and I’m scared to be alone.

Sometimes I forget that you’re somebody’s daughter. I forget all the friends that you have. I forget there was a time before I knew you. I forget that you’re not mine and I forget that I’m not yours.

In a cab now. Forehead against the glass. Watch police lights, and the ballpark, and the fog roll past. “Don’t fall asleep back there on me, man. What’s your address? Who you staying with? This is your building. It’ll be $12.75.” Now I’m amazed by everything and there’s beauty all around. I live in a great city. I’m from a hell of a small town. I feel light. I feel elated and I think how far I’ve come. Really, it’s extraordinary and it’s something to be proud of. But even now I don’t trust it; even now I suspect this will all be gone by tomorrow.

• DIY
• Punk
• garage rock
• indie rock
• pop-punk
• power pop
• Wisconsin