Morrissey

First time I heard Morrissey it was during a tornado warning. Sitting cross-legged in the hallway for what seemed like two hours before we reported back to our third-period classrooms, I listened to Jordan sing "The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get." Enthralled by his voice rolling out the lyrics, I assumed he was composing a song on the spot.

The more you ignore me
The closer I get
You're wasting your time

He leaned against the wall behind him, stretched his legs in front of him and stared into empty space as the melody moved forth. When he realized I was facing him, listening intently, he turned his whole torso towards me to look square into my eyes as he sang. He had a charismatic way about him, locking me into an intense admiration in spite of myself.

I am now a central part
Of your mind's landscape
Whether you care
Or do not.
Yeah, I've made up your mind.

He was exotic in the way he expressed himself, nonchalantly but masked passion in his eyes. Maybe it was the marijuana or whatever other drug he was experiencing those months. Maybe it was my sheltered self craving something wild and unleashed, carefree and indifferent to societal expectations. Maybe it was his manic-depressive rollercoaster colliding with intellectual boredom. Maybe his word-playfulness before crashing into mental blocks. Maybe it was attention given, and with-held, when I craved it.

Beware! I bear more grudges
Than lonely high court judges.
When you sleep
I will creep
Into your thoughts
Like a bad debt
That you can't pay.
Take the easy way
And give in.

After having memorized the lyrics Jordan had sung in the dim school hallway full of other teenagers waiting out the tornado warning, I searched the lyrics on the internet. Just a bit disappointed that they were not written by him, but not dismayed for too long before buying that CD, Vauxhal and I, in a music store in the mall. I listened to the CD nonstop for weeks afterwards, falling in love with each of the songs one by one. I loved Morrissey's voice, but I also loved the memory of someone singing the lyrics while staring deep into my eyes, making my heart creep into my throat, my heartbeat faster, my fingers twisting the corner of my shirt into a knot, all my nerves quaking with teenage angst and infatuation.