Thank you, whoever is sharing P’s music on iTunes here in the WP today. You’ve reminded me that I love The Cure.
The last time I listened to Disintegration, I was probably in junior high. I owned it on cassette. Its dark melancholy went well with being 14. Even Fascination Street, which might be misinterpreted as up beat, has a certain pungent scariness, a certain lush instability.
It goes well with being 29 and unable to eek out one coherent sentence.
I remember who turned me onto Robert Smith and his tatooed lips (before he had tatooed lips): a girl named Sarah who was goth before it was cool to be (and probably before it was called “goth”). She began 7th grade getting on the bus with funky hair and dark eyeliner, and by the end of 8th grade the eyeliner was stylized into teardrops on her cheeks (and it colored her lips, too, I think).
Oh. Sweet reverie. Back to writing. Or trying, anyway.