you're too young & eager to love

I have knots on top of knots on my shoulders, though my left side is the worst. I had to go get them worked on, because they’ve started to make my back hurt which has started to make me nauseous. Totally unpleasant. Anyway, deep tissue massage is not at all enjoyable. My shoulder is a swollen mess and bruised, although the bruise looks more like a burn? What’s that about?

I have to keep icing it and then heating it. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

To add to the list, I feel sick. I’ve committed myself to bed rest.

/whine

Anyway, when I’m sick, I tend to turn to musicals for a pick-me-up. This isn’t too unusual, since I turn to musicals for … everything. Today, however, I chose RENT. A musical that is on my top 5 list – always. (Probably because they released the live theater version on DVD, so I get to see everything instead of a modified film version.)

I haven’t quite gotten over my schoolgirl crush on Roger Davis. So, I decided to write him. I only managed a few bits and my tenses jump all around, but oh well.

I’m also including a clip of Roger’s first solo song from the movie version. Mostly because Adam Pascal has a beautiful voice and the flashbacks get me every time. … Except they didn’t keep with the original idea of April committing suicide and leaving a note for Roger, the bastards.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=66Gaq2lkWpc


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This is their life. A dirty loft in Alphabet City without a proper lock on the door. They burn magazines for heat, use candles as lights, and the ground is littered with Mark’s rejected scripts and Roger’s broken guitar strings.

Roger can’t look at the bathroom. He stills see April with her wrists slit, and all that infected blood that he had to clean from the tiles. The heavy note against the still steam-wet mirror – we’ve got AIDS.

He remembers how sloppy her handwriting was.

He builds himself a nest of old blankets and doesn’t eat. His skin sallow and eyes heavy and there’s no money but he still gets the score. Still injects himself with heroin so he can’t feel, can’t think, can’t remember. Just sleeps, his chin tucked to his chest, body sweating.

It’s really Mark that gets him to stop. Faithful and worried-eyed Mark. Cleaning up the vomit and shit and tears. Letting him sleep in his bed because Roger’s still smells too much like April. Understanding when Roger, in rage, beats his fists against the wall then turns and hits him too.

For a few months, there are a lot of bruises everywhere.

But it’s Mimi that gets him out. Mimi with her blue-polished nails and bright smile, her Spanish hair and warm blood. Curling her arms around his neck and kissing him that first time, stunned, arching her long body against his. This reminds him of April – April who tasted of smoke and gin and smelled like heat. April whose smile was wide and sex all-consuming. Mimi simmers in the same way.

She strips and sins and does too much powder, but she’s dying too, just like him.