Open Letter To Forever - Fred Thomas

Oh the crushing weight of an exceptional memory!

There’s a detailed, unfailing transcript of every conversation waiting

And I know it’s annoying

But what happens in a house with the windows always open

And the water always flowing

And the candles always burning

And the porch light always broken?

And love is always looming but it’s tired of your attention

It feels like an excuse you use to rename old conventions

I made the flyer myself — it said «ALL ARE WELCOME»

But failed to mention that strict psychic dress code

Like, I remember standing out in front of the Northern

After another 15-paid gig

Getting harrassed by Olympia street punks (the worst!) for looking like a

hipster

I wanted to be like «Man, I’m probably a couple years younger than your father

And I’ve traded in any chance at stability for this community of people who,

like

Know what Black Flag is, or whatever.

And look a little closer —

This outfit is amazing!

You think these pops of pastel play off of each other on accident?»

But no, I didn’t say any of that

It was just another moment crystallizing

Another open letter to forever

Like the fast food trash on the side of the road

The poorly timed reminder of home

The manic rush towards anything

That makes it harder for you to tell me who I am