DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #19 - chain of fools

⚠️ mentions of sex and drugs. mentions of Honda Fours too 🔞 ⚠️

October 8, 1992
travel my way
take the highway that's the best
oh no... 'twas 'Route 66
this is the Pacific Coast highway, isn't it?
get your kicks on it nonetheless, Victoria
... or Cherry ?
فيكتوريا

My fucking legs are cramping, I'm wobbling and bouncing like there's no tomorrow ... but Jesus Christ, if I love to ride the long distance. Eight hundred and counting miles on top of my two wheeled vibrator, and I'd still ride some more. Motorcycle, and not motorcycle. I indeed hope I'm gonna hop on something without wheels tonight, maybe a Seattle banana that I fancy so, so bad ... but I don't wanna get my hopes up. Stay humble, Victoria. Stay humble and stay focused on the road. You're in Oakland now, but still ridin'.

Bessie, Chrissie and Chris have been driving with Chrissie's vibrant red Honda NSX, side to side with me, in all of this madness. And this road trip has been insanely fun. Fuelled with good vibes, hysterical jokes, silly 'would you rather's and a shit lot of wholesomeness. I'd do this all over again, even if it turns out we've gotten on the road to witness a shit performance by Phellus in Chains, and I won't get any Phallus by the end of the night. It's the thrill and the chase that keep me going... even if right now I'd just need a large coffee, a chicken salad 'cause I'm hungry as fuck, cuddles, and a big bed to take a nap on. Not a cigarette, because I'm a boss nicotine addicted bitch, and there's a cancer stick on my lips as I keep riding the last few miles before we have to enter the Oakland Coliseum. The one that I can see from afar now.

'Who wants to do the Triumph-al entrance with me?' I address the girls plus Chris, as we finally approach the main entrance gate of the Oakland Coliseum. The place where Phellus in Chains, Ozzy Osbourne and the very depressed, very unknown to me Sepultura will play a gig in a few hours. I look over to my peeps, through the window glass of their car, in search of a sign of approval... and of at least one partner to make my Triumph-al entrance with. What I get, as a response, is the stare of two people who are looking at me like they're thinking I'm crazy cursed in the ass. 'Cause I am, and they're right on the point they're tryna make.
The Triumph-al entrance is basically... Victoria breaking through every door and gate on top of her Triumph Bonneville. Destroying everything while she's at it, except one of her limbs. Much to the disgust and disapproval of everyone in sight. The last time I did this, it was at Matt Cameron's house party, and I broke through the front bush of his humble property on top of my motorcycle. His girlfriend didn't talk to me for weeks to come after that, and I had to pay for a gardener to fix the mess that I'd made. Sorry, April. I was born in August. The same day as Mata Hari. I'm a shithead by nature, ain't I ?

'Noone, Tori. We wanna live'. Chrissie speaks, taking a break from twirling her tongue around Chris's, and I roll my eyes back at her words. Not because I'm annoyed at her preach, but because she's so fucking prudent and ever so right that she makes me wish I was as mentally sane as her. And also because I low-key appreciate her for mothering me everyday, while my biological mom is miles and miles away from me and can't do the thing. Poor mom. She has no idea I make porn, break through gates and doors on top or a motorcycle... and follow bands on the road when I don't study. My friends know everything about me, even things I'm not particularly proud of, and they still like me somehow. People don't judge in Seattle, they sure do gossip ... but they still embrace stuff, even the weirdest stuff. Washington state of mind. I never wanna go back home, for fuck's sake. I don't know what's gonna happen in two hours from now, I don't even know if I'm going to make it with all limbs intact after the Triumph-al entrance ... all I know is that I'm going to cry myself a river, next June, when I'll have to leave this country because my exchange year is over. I'm gonna miss the Space Needle, my friends and my current, beloved, decadent rock n'roll lifestyle.