Sunday, May 13, 2007

A rush and a push and the land is ours.

George Harrison / My Sweet Lord

Behind me a thousand broken glasses form a river of diamond glass tears, aching, dancing and shimmering, tiny arms of ghostly light waving farewell from the past. Man I'm a sore loser sometimes. Laugh. Spit if you ever spat, but you don't, so smoke and turn the corners of your mouth up. Grimace yourself a smile if that's how you want to be seen. Just in case anyone's watching, right? Losing is good fuck nuts. Losing gives you the scars. Losing gives you the hunger. Losing makes that next victory taste as fucking sweet as that first time, twenty years ago on the couch, sun shining prison bars through the window, when you had no idea and she just giggled and lent over and the ceiling never looked as sweet as you tilted back and watched the paint peel oh god yes. Sore losin's for silver spooned pimps and spoiled brats. And they've been the enemy since you turned up at school hungry and walked around the block at lunch so they didn't see you go hungrier still. Rubbing your stomach as the back to class bell rang in a fit of overacting, in case they didn't get why, those tears the tears of the Best Fed Boy in School. Mmmm, yum. BLT. Boy, learn to take it. And you didn't spit, not even back then, not even when the wind brought red ash and flame that Wednesday the sky bled and died and we all wondered if the end of the world had come before we even got to live in it. And that was the fear, the fear which has kept at you loss after loss after loss even when you kept your head up and wondered why and clenched your little boy fists and said then as now, I'll show 'em, I can do it, but you never knew what it was, or how, all you were was a little lost boy full of fear with a Hollywood pretention of It'll Work Out In The End. Tenacity taught you hope, hope taught you shit outta luck and luck taught you to never trust a Lady. But losing ain't so bad once you're used to it. Like I say, makes more the sweet after the bitter. Just don't get so used to Hell that you can't see Heaven when you're standing right in it.


Walking home from the shop yesterday I had the revelation that for the first time in 34 years, I am entirely and completely happy with my home life.

I can't begin to tell you what that feels like.

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