In this magazine
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- Page 2She dies and I go back to Nashville. 20 years-old and I’m freeloading, sleeping on an air-mattress in a friend’s living room and frankly they are getting a little sick of me (fair). I’ve finally let go of my religion, which at this point had been a private battle. After some months of doing nothing and being nobody I find my friends adore, but decide that I’m not ready to grow. The only thing in my grasp is the form of a child. I’m lonely, but the kind of lonely that arrives when you start to give in more. I figure it’s time to start smoking weed so I do. I switch to the tobacco phase a few years later. I start throwing shows in the living room which gets us boys up beyond late at night. My nostalgic sort who went to school at CalArts, California coddles the stoner. I’m staying with an odd collection of folks, sharing spliffs with middle aged lawyers that became tract scalpers. When it gets late enough, Nancy gets lazy and uses her pink cowboy hat as an ashtray. Most of the boys there arms are a little gray, so I scroll through hundreds of pictures of other half-naked men in my area. I enjoy the chatting and flirting, they enjoy what can only be described as my trauma. The more I date, the more my stomach hurts. Not from the stress and anxiety, I’d define it, but the pit in my stomach, which I was expecting would birth my love, fails me again. I stop backyard at the boy’s house, he smokes, talks about how his friend almost shot himself, I drive home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, I just wasn’t sure why.
- “Company Hunting” - Vienna Vienna“Drama Queen” - feeble little horse “Love On The Outside” - Wishy
- Page 4@rheanna.wukelich
- Page 5@vastfrontier
- Page 6"CHIRLA organizes immigrants and their families to fight harmful policies and demand equity and justice from our government.” CHIRLA
- Page 7“AFSC works for a just, peaceful, and sustainable world free of violence, inequality, and oppression. We join with people and partners worldwide to meet urgent community needs, challenge injustice, and build peace.” “We deliver legal and social services to people and families who want to put down roots in the U.S. — and cultivate welcoming communities that uphold our collective freedoms.”
- Page 8I thought if I could hold the right rocks I’d talk to everybody’s version of God Maybe I could get in his thoughts So I thought
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Page 2
She dies and I go back to Nashville. 20 years-old and I’m freeloading, sleeping on an air-mattress in a friend’s living room and frankly they are getting a little sick of me (fair). I’ve finally let go of my religion, which at this point had been a private battle. After some months of doing nothing and being nobody I find my friends adore, but decide that I’m not ready to grow. The only thing in my grasp is the form of a child. I’m lonely, but the kind of lonely that arrives when you start to give in more. I figure it’s time to start smoking weed so I do. I switch to the tobacco phase a few years later. I start throwing shows in the living room which gets us boys up beyond late at night. My nostalgic sort who went to school at CalArts, California coddles the stoner. I’m staying with an odd collection of folks, sharing spliffs with middle aged lawyers that became tract scalpers. When it gets late enough, Nancy gets lazy and uses her pink cowboy hat as an ashtray. Most of the boys there arms are a little gray, so I scroll through hundreds of pictures of other half-naked men in my area. I enjoy the chatting and flirting, they enjoy what can only be described as my trauma. The more I date, the more my stomach hurts. Not from the stress and anxiety, I’d define it, but the pit in my stomach, which I was expecting would birth my love, fails me again. I stop backyard at the boy’s house, he smokes, talks about how his friend almost shot himself, I drive home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, I just wasn’t sure why.
She dies and I go back to Nashville. 20 years-old and I’m freeloading, sleeping on an air-mattress in a friend’s living room and frankly they are getting a little sick of me (fair). I’ve finally let go of my religion, which at this point had been a private battle. After some months of doing nothing and being nobody I find my friends adore, but decide that I’m not ready to grow. The only thing in my grasp is the form of a child. I’m lonely, but the kind of lonely that arrives when you start to give in more. I figure it’s time to start smoking weed so I do. I switch to the tobacco phase a few years later. I start throwing shows in the living room which gets us boys up beyond late at night. My nostalgic sort who went to school at CalArts, California coddles the stoner. I’m staying with an odd collection of folks, sharing spliffs with middle aged lawyers that became tract scalpers. When it gets late enough, Nancy gets lazy and uses her pink cowboy hat as an ashtray.
Most of the boys there arms are a little gray, so I scroll through hundreds of pictures of other half-naked men in my area. I enjoy the chatting and flirting, they enjoy what can only be described as my trauma. The more I date, the more my stomach hurts. Not from the stress and anxiety, I’d define it, but the pit in my stomach, which I was expecting would birth my love, fails me again. I stop backyard at the boy’s house, he smokes, talks about how his friend almost shot himself, I drive home. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, I just wasn’t sure why.
Another day the dorms get a little gray again, so I start wading through church buildings. I make friends with a pastor at the water fountain. Now, we chat sometimes. He’s nonjudgmental. I wish I could say the same but I still ride the highest horse. I have that new non-believer shine, that sun-born-again glow, the false ego of a too assured young person. I see adults like a dance, he’s several men the takes. I love the lakes near I sit in the pews and enjoy the scenery. I know the stained glass holds no answers, but if I catch it at the right time, a little rainbow reflects off the cross above the altar. Likewise, I’ll trek to metaphorical shops and spend money on things I’ll never use (now, dubbed windowsill accoutrement). I perform tear trading for strangers at bars I’d never been to before. I see it as flirting, they see me as drunk.
No matter how excessive the gluttony is, I still can’t face this. It’ll take years for me to find my footing. But eventually I will. I’ll have a boyfriend and the right medicine. Rent a house, adopt a cat. I’ll know “why.” I’ll think of her and smile. The pain will end.
Page 3“Company Hunting” - Vienna Vienna
“Drama Queen” - feeble little horse “Love On The Outside” - Wishy
- “Drama Queen” - feeble little horse
- “Love On The Outside” - Wishy
- “Drunk Girls” - LCD Soundsystem
- “Fame” - David Bowie
“Once in a Lifetime” - Talking Heads
“I Would Die 4 U” - Prince
“Crystal Days” - Echo & the Bunnymen
“Pictures of You” - The Cure
“Dreams Never End” - New Order
Page 4
@rheanna.wukelich
@rheanna.wukelich
Page 5
@vastfrontier
@vastfrontier
Page 6
"CHIRLA organizes immigrants and their families to fight harmful policies and demand equity and justice from our government.” CHIRLA
"CHIRLA organizes immigrants and their families to fight harmful policies and demand equity and justice from our government.”
CHIRLA
The Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights
Page 7
“AFSC works for a just, peaceful, and sustainable world free of violence, inequality, and oppression. We join with people and partners worldwide to meet urgent community needs, challenge injustice, and build peace.” “We deliver legal and social services to people and families who want to put down roots in the U.S. — and cultivate welcoming communities that uphold our collective freedoms.”
“AFSC works for a just, peaceful, and sustainable world free of violence, inequality, and oppression. We join with people and partners worldwide to meet urgent community needs, challenge injustice, and build peace.”
“We deliver legal and social services to people and families who want to put down roots in the U.S. — and cultivate welcoming communities that uphold our collective freedoms.”
Raíces Texas
AFSC - American Friends Service Committee
Page 8
I thought if I could hold the right rocks I’d talk to everybody’s version of God Maybe I could get in his thoughts So I thought
I thought if I could hold the right rocks I’d talk to everybody’s version of God Maybe I could get in his thoughts
So I thought
Take me anytime in london I’ll be company hunting Smoke him if you got him Smoke him if you got him Better if you want him
I don’t wanna live forever
Twenty something’s been a real killer Full of shit I can’t remember
I don’t wanna live forever
I don’t wanna live forever
Being around is cute and shit but I’m not sure how long I can handle it Hold me tight before you put it in I’m not sure how long I can handle it
Talk to Hades at the airport bar
I was getting drunk on red and fine liqueur He said something ‘bout the way i’d go and I said something with a playful tone I’ll be company hunting
I don’t wanna live forever
Twenty something’s been a real killer Full of shit I can’t remember
- I don’t wanna live forever
- I don’t wanna live forever
- Lyrics
- Josh Abraham, Oligee and Eren Cannata
- Produced by:
- Cameron Graham and Oligee
- Engineer:
- Oligee
- Guitar, Bass, Keys and Programming:
- Eren Cannata
- Keys:
- Vienna Vienna
- Guitars:
- Vienna Vienna
- Lead Vocals:
Vienna Vienna, Justin Tranter and Eren Cannata
- Background Vocals:
- Jeremy Hatcher
- Mixed by:
- Randy Merrill at Sterling Sound
- Mastered by:
Vienna Vienna (33.34%) James Barre Music Publishing / These Are Songs of Pulse (ASCAP)
Written by:
Eren Cannata (33.33%)
Marquise Cut Publishing (BMI), Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp. (BMI) and Eren Cannata BMI Pub Designee (BMI)
All rights administered by Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp.
Justin Tranter (33.33%)
Justina Trantina Songs (ASCAP) All rights administered by Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp