All bitches know is smoke weed, listen to Coldplay and lie. This is a truth universally acknowledged, or at least acknowledged by my roommates and I, ever since that fateful evening in September of 2020. We did not know each other at all. We were not entirely sure how freakish we were allowed to act in front of each other yet. We were stuck in a room together. It was awesome. It was a real wreck. It was freshman year.
We spent a lot of time in those first few weeks taking advantage of our new university’s famous reputation for getting high enough that you forget how much money you’re being forced to spend on tuition. We followed the trail of smoke all the way to the Redstone woods, took shelter in the bushes, and lit up, concealing within our copious drug use a desperate need to perform coolness, to do the right thing at the right time.
In the bush just adjacent to ours, however, were a couple of guys who could plainly have not given less of a fuck about doing the right thing at the right time. Dudes passed around a joint just like we did, looked around periodically for campus police cars just like we did. But there was one key difference between our group and theirs which I will never forget. These guys were listening to Coldplay.
The details are fuzzy. I was in shock, and also, I was stoned. There was no shame involved. Man let the Coldplay drip out of his iPhone speakers like it was pure gold, like he was playing an audiobook of the Bible narrated by Jesus of Nazareth himself. And hearing the Bible coming from that bush would have been less disarming than what I heard. I lost all sense of space and time. I’m telling you this was hard, deep-cut Coldplay, like the shit your older brother played on the car stereo while he drove you to soccer practice, the shit that was playing in the mall the first time a random man catcalled you in front of the Dippin Dots cart.
I guess all it takes is hearing Viva La Vida past the year 2011, in the woods, surrounded by people you basically know nothing about, to convince you that everything is so inconceivably nonsensical and ridiculous that it’s probably all gonna end up okay in the end. I guess it’s that total cognitive dissonance that’s more resonant than anything else. I don’t know where those dudes went after they left their bush that night. I don’t know if they ever pressed play on the sweet sounds of Chris Martin’s voice again. But I hope they did. The message of Coldplay still circulates through my veins. I mean, come on, in the year of our God 2005, Chris Martin wrote an entire song about how badly he wants to fix you. And isn’t that all we are really asking of our drugs?
Categories: April 20th 2021, tunes