I once saw Deerhunter at Beachland Ballroom
People say, Cleveland is a dead city.
And I was Cleveland that day. Hammered, windy, and
down with few bottles of post-industrial depression.
Bradfox Cox was ugly, and he was wearing
a free Resse's tee shirt. I loved their ambient drift;
psychedelic, hydraulic and
entangled in layers like the long hair of an oriental monk.
Sound is a truth on its own right
and it surely represents nothing; I had a long
enlightening sigh. On the way back, boom! Our car hit
a deer on expressway. Beer and blood, loneliness
and snow; spilled all over.
Hitting a deer after the Deerhunter's show,
ain't it something? A special case
of synchronicity, depth psychologists might think.
Mr. Carl Jung! Sir please? Did I need to go see a shrink that day?
( Sudeep Adhikari is an Engineer, Lecturer and Poet from Kathmandu, Nepal)
The Beautiful Space-