Self recovered memory of a thousand…I must have been about 12 and I’m sitting in the passenger seat of this little red hatchback and we’re parked out by the railroad tracks by an old abandoned warehouse and an office building under construction. The girl in the driver’s seat is older, wears a leather jacket and has short cropped black hair. There’s a Velvet Underground tape in the cassette deck and we’re talking when this song comes on. She’s telling me (as many did) go my way, do this this way, do this my way.
Who was she? I’ll never know. Dissociatively fractured, reintegrated and searching.
