do you remember the days when you were a preteen indie rock head? when you would wear corduroy and do your hair in the spunky, unwashed look? when you wore powder blue shirts with hello kitty on them?
do you remember after the concert, when you always used to go to the back room and have a secret smoke with the band? when you all used to stay at the lead singer's place and make up fairy stories about the two friends who travelled from one ocean to the other?
and do you remember your first kiss, behind the taco bell in kingston? when your breath smelled like peppermint and his smelled like sprite? the skies were patched with clouds, and the moon struggled to take a peek?
those were the days before the big decisions had to be made, in that limbo called highschool when the big event in your life was learning to drive. it was a time full of colour, full of sound and fury, a confusing time of crazy road trips and crazier acid trips, when everything was about growing away from your parents and making it big for yourself.
as the elders timed their harvests by the moon, so did you wait for the waxing of the Gap and Club Monaco for your back-to-school harvest. And the big impression of the year was the first day back, when you dazzled the world with a new you that was the same as it always was, but with a new cover.
to loiter, to tarry, to chill and to lounge: the children of the 90's grew up in a concrete nursery with only bright plumage and beads -- pink hair and tamagotchis -- to adorn them, and adorn themselves to the fullest.
stuck in that strange microcosm, your locker changed every year, along with your heroes: one year was nkotb, the next was r&b, the next was some whatever you couldn't quite tell, but it was always your struggle to show off your Self in your youthful beautiful way.