in tribute to palookaville

i just had my first ever feeling of pure nostalgia for california. IM listenign to the SC basis, which i wasnt even at or anything, but i suddenly has an incredibly visceral rememberance. Of the sound of the place and on the people i was friends with my first years there, when were were all the new england transplanted biscuits kids and we were that as a collective. And i remember sitting on the concrete in the little back parkign lot area of palookaville, which, along with drip coffee, made that place what it sadly is no more. And i remember that weird feeling you get there, not actually a good one, but strong and unique, and that weird weather, of the chilly wetness. And the feeling that it was always extremely late, and you were tired, and driving through the fog either lost in the town avaoiding the police or on that damn rt 17. Or maybe just lost wandering by tony o's house, or feeling as such. And lord knows i hate that place, and maybe this is why, but i think now its impossible not to feel lost there. but in a way that simultaneously clearly lets you know that you are in santa cruz.