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Shane Koyczan and the Short Story Long - Tomatoes | Текст песни

People always ask me: “How do you memorize all of that?”

And the truth is; the first girl I ever kissed tasted like tomatoes. And I know this, because the second girl I ever kissed tasted like pepper. It wasn’t unpleasant. It’s just that I was expecting tomatoes.

When I was a kid I was fascinated by space, and I learnt that time slows near a black hole. Inside a black hole time stops altogether. Whether or not this theory will ever be proved, I’m moved to believe this would be the perfect place to love someone.

In grade 4, my gym teacher gave me the nickname half-ton. It was a name that stuck. I remember it, because it was the first time I ever told someone: “Go fuck yourself!” and meant it. He quit calling me the name after he called my house trying to get me in trouble for what I’d said. To which my grandmother replied: “Mr. Shithead, I told him to say it.”

I remember my grandfather’s blue tool kit where he hid a secret stash of raisins. I recall thinking: “My granddad has the worst taste in candy.” But he did teach me how to tie a tie. My first opportunity to apply this knowledge was my first date; a seventh grade classmate, who showed up wearing acid washed jeans and a Def Leppard t-shirt. I wore a suit and tie. When she asked why I was all dressed up, I told her: “My other clothes smell funny.” I am not saying it ended badly, but she wound up leaving me for a boy who could make farting noises with his arm-pit. I’m forced to admit - he was pretty cool.

My fourth grade teacher had a rule about speaking out of turn. Failure to learn and practise this lesson would result in having to sit outside. I know this, because I tried it once. When she finally came out to check on me, she asked: “What was so important, that it couldn’t wait?” Knowing that it’s rude to point, but needing to illustrate my position, I gestured to her chest and said: “Your boob is hanging out.” She quickly covered up and corrected me: “Breast.” She was a good teacher.

When I was twelve, I was given an academic diagnostics test. Later the instructor informed me I had an aptitude for history. He looked puzzled when I replied: “Yeah, but that was yesterday. Today I’m more interested in tomorrow.” I remember it, because the next day I asked a girl if I could borrow a pen. When I offered it back she said: “You should write me a letter with it first.” So I did. I wrote her a note, which the teacher then intercepted and read to the class. It was something that we’d learnt in science that day, about the way gravity affects mass and weight in relation to how quickly something will fall.

Example: A crumpled ball of paper will fall at the same speed as a boulder of granite. It doesn’t matter how much something weighs. It stays the same until you consider surface area and resistance, at which point the persistence of gravity loses force.

Example: Crumple a piece of paper into a ball. It will fall faster than a loose sheet. They are both composed of the same mass and weight, so you’d think that the rate of velocity measured with the force of gravity would cause each to fall at the same speed. But that’s when you need to consider that the greater surface area of the loose sheet adds resistance. So, the crumpled ball will fall quickly, but the loose sheet will slowly float.

I wrote a note explaining, that when two people are falling for each other, they do so at the same speed. There’s no need to factor in the physics explanations or something we can make no use of. Einstein said: “Gravity won’t be held responsible for people falling in love.” I wrote her a note, telling her: “If I fall in love with you, no one will ever be able to explain it. And I think that’s beautiful.” Despite the class laughing, she did as well, Which is how I can tell you that I then knew and now still know. She tasted like tomatoes.

I don’t remember the way every song goes. I can’t recall every person I’ve met. I get names mixed up all the time. I’m terrible with birthdays. But I remember all the ways people have a

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