if i came here to forget

the maximum occupacny of this room is drastically breeched. i can hear the floors of this second storey warehouse apartment creak under the pressure of skateboards and the teeming of adolescent disposition. the show is in full swing now; the second band is playing to a crowd no smaller than riot waiting to happen. the bass drum is like a hand grenade and i think i can even see the window panes rattle as it resounds. someone in the back of the room by the vert ramp and sofas full of unhappy girlfriends, yells, "this builiding is coming down tonight!' he may not be entirely wrong. in truth, this warehouse that once held machinery for some corporate endeavor, should probably be condemned. no one else here seems to notice though, or perhaps they just don't care. i can attest to moments like that, in which i'm just that pissed off about being seventeen, and i don't care about anything but not being at home. the foresight i lacked was that i have no basis of knowledge for a span of time other than what i can remember. i cannot see beyond exactly where i am. but i payed my five dollars to be here just like the rest of them. i walked up the stairway lined with car seats, beer bottles, and the strung out owner of this very warehouse. i even came here alone. what am i searching for? i have a clarity in life that most at my age fail to even grasp. i don't need dangerous crowds of angst ridden teenagers to remind me of my youthful aspirations. but i am still wondering why exactly i am here. was it the music? i can't remember. if i came here to forget, mission accomplished. i wander around the room a little longer, lingering at the skaters doing ollies over a couple of cases of beer. it surprises me that they would put the beer in such jeopardy. this night is a failure. i cascade down the stairwell thinking only of a shower and my bed. it dawns on me as i push through the oversized front door, that maybe i came here to disambiguate myself from, well, myself. i am not the same as i was five or six years ago. i am not the doe-eyed, reticent, and day dreaming teenager, with a heavy heart and a mouthful of swear words. actually, i am a doe-eyed, reticent, and daydreaming twenty something with a heavy heart and a mouthful of swear words; only now they are comingling with the abstract concept that you can be young forever and somehow carry on an adult life. this is the realization that i had come to anyway.