Find me amongst four walls with holes punched in them the size of beer bottles, fists, and heads.
Find me in the rubble and the couch split wide-open guts dripping onto the piss stained floor.
Find me six deep into a night of tall cans and cigarettes ashed into empty cups and overfilled ashtrays.
Find me cold betrayed by the draftiness of the broken window and the leaking roof.
Find me in a smoky room full of doped up punks and half-drunk dreamers on stained couches.
Find me singing along to anthems that everyone in the room knows by heart accompanied by an acoustic guitar.
Find me squished against a wall covered in old flyers and posters that read like secret plans of escape.
Find me eyes open at 6 am rambling on about nothing at all while the music plays from a duct taped CD player.
Find me enthralled as impossible, fantastical stories are woven from points just beyond memory.
Find me passed out sick on the bathroom floor wondering where these stickers on the toilet seat came from.
Find me sweating through throngs of people shouting, laughing, and cursing at bodies that can't be drunk all time.
Find me cross eyed rabid spitting manifestos about smashing the state with the sheer power of our wills.
Find me tired wishing for a night like the last but better than I'd ever hoped could be true.
Find me snuggled close to an old lover bodies pressed together keeping warm on a soiled mattress.
Find me hugging new comrades and lampooning those who came before while lamenting my current co-conspirators.
Find me spray-painting banners to drop to increase the chaos that has risen in the midst of this madness.
Find me scribbling indescribable pathological lies into a book that seems will never be done till it has undone me.
Find me loved and loving every minute at the epicenter of the birth of the old age in the new body.
Find me face to face with everything I ever dreamed was possible and the means to force it on a hateful world.
Find me in the place where I found myself.

So many times, I read, but without comment. I like what you have written. For me, the memories like this came from living in NYC... which was the place where I had seen these things, and found myself in their finding... great piece, descriptives that were low and real...
thanks, Suzette

I'm glad you identify with it. Living in a punk house is an experience unto itself. It keeps one vital and I love it.

Any more about yourself? Where from?

I live in upstate NY near Syracuse. The house has been the center of my life for the past two or three years. It serves as venue, crashpad, practice space, war room, cinemaplex, and home to many of the college kids in the area. The main thing we all have in common is a love for music. The house has been run by punks for about 5 years and shows no signs of slowing down. I'm kind of the ringmaster of the house at the moment. I'm 22 years old and finishing up school for good this semester. Someday I hope to write some grand novel or zine about the house and all of its misadventures.