Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Talking 'bout regeneration

In a blinding flash I realise: if you've followed someone else down a path of morbid malaise and troubled minds...it doesn't mean that you are like that. It just takes jumping off.

So I say everything I really want to say. Good stuff. Real stuff. Stuff that I truly feel but that has no damn relevance to the outcome.

And then I jump off.

Easy as that.


Last night I turfed a blind guy out onto the street. He had a black eye and was groping the women in the bar so I grabbed him by the arm and very gently coaxed that dirty fucker out onto the street. He was cursin' the whole way, threatening me with murder, telling me he was a Brunswick Greek and that I should watch my back.

I whispered in his ear, just a quick story.
I said what had happened and who I knew.
He started to cry.

He said, sometimes it's hard to live like this, and gestured to his defunct pissholes in the snow for eyes.

I said, I don't understand, but I understand, and waved over a taxi and said goodbye.


I could admit to you all everything. But I ain't. There's quite a lot to tell, quite a lot to tell.

Instead, as you can almost feel the season shift just ever so fucking slightly for the better/ and you can smell the skin of a new born or a lover / and I find a long lost song from a band I had forgotten about / and a new place to eat oh my fucking god / and tomorrow there'll be Pirates a hoyin' / and right where I sit now overlooks a girl in a tight red dress across the street / and old friends are reappearing and new friends are proving their worth and you get the idea right?

I got so drowned in shit that I forgot to be myself.

I'm a freaking optimist man, wild lothario, hands in the air, my soul is inside me you wanna come take a look?

So I carefully pack all of my clothes. Clean my room. Have a shower. Crank The Liars and smell the fuck out of today.

Everybody in life
needs a hobby
fills the hole
that work and rent create
Can you hear us?

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