“Women have always been my weakness…
Lucky for me they have always also been … my strength…”
Once again, I return to this most lucid reverie…
Gather my wits (or whats left of them, at least)
It’s August 3rd, Friday night ooops Scratch that, Saturday Morning.. 1:35 am. Andrew and Lauren are in the other room playing Magic. I bored of that hours ago… drinking, alone. Surfing fubar and the House of the rising sons blog, listening to music online …
Wild horses.. sing it, Mick, you motherfucker.
I guess it isn’t going to take wild horses, after all. Just one VERY determined woman. Moving out of the house next week… 10 years gone.
Blows my mind just to consider it all. Getting old. Friday night- and this house is empty.
Once upon a time, that wouldn’t have even been thought of…
“There goes my hero, watch him as he goes…”
I was my own hero,- for such a long time.
Now, not so much. All the pride, all the immediacy, all the anger, all the pain, all the fire…All the things I loved so much to hate, All the fight in my soul that made it worth it all-
Has burned out.
Not enough passion to light a fucking cigarette, it feels like, sometimes. But still, I carry on, carryin on. I don’t have so much of a death wish anymore. I don’t go crazy as much as I once did. I don’t know if I am getting old and wise, But I know I am growing old.
And resenting it. And yet, not knowing what I am still supposed to resent, after all these years. I rebelled all my life. And NOW, nothing left to rebel at. Sink into myself, I’d laugh at all my wild misconceptions and how wrong I was about how I’d turn out- but I find that its just not funny.
South of Heaven’s eerie opening pours in, a flood of atmosphere, filling the empty crevices of my mind with doom and gloom and the purely righteous emotion of self-hate. And the only commandment of all reveals itself as: Thou Shalt Not Rise Above.
On earth, as it is in heaven, O’ Lord.
And all I can do upon the morning of this groundhog day revelation is exhale deeply and take another swig off this beer. Thank the lord for IT, if nothing else.
If it were not for something to numb the sense of futility, I could not stand this life for long.
“Separate the fact from fiction” … Well, hell, sounds easy, doesn’t it?
The trouble is, that the fiction tempts as much as the fact doesn’t.
“I wish I would’ve met you,
But now it’s a little late..
They think that your ending was all wrong…”
The ending is right. It’s the beginning that fucks me up.
And a brief moment of silence, and Dylan enters from an empty hall.. “Here comes the story of the hurricane..”
And then the story takes me away, the music peels me off the floor and lifts me up, and I DO rise above, if only for a few minutes. Bless ya, Bob.
The music intoxicates as it fabricates- another existence, another level, another life, another world- and more importantly- Another ME.
And nothing is more fantastic than just escaping the chains of this meager existence…
Step out the front door like a ghost into a fog where no one notices the contrast of white on whitehouse
In between the moon and you-
Angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself, back again…
I don’t know
My heart says I’m dying
through the door I hear her crying
Why? I dont know…
Round here I always stand up straight
Round here something mindlessly debates
Kirk came from nowhere with a suitcase in his hand
he said he’d like to meet a guy who looks like he’s supposed to..
he walks along the edge of where the desert meets the sand
Just like hes walking on a wire in the circus
he parks his car outside his house
Takes his masks off
Says hes close to understanding himself
he knows he’s more than just a little misunderstood
he has trouble acting normal when hes nervous
Round here he’s carving out his game
Round here he wishes he was just the same
Round here we talk in inverted little lines
But we sacrifice for shams
Round here I’m slipping through my hands
She says its only in my head
He says shhh I know its only in my head
But the devil on his shoulder in the empty spot says
man you should try to take a shot
Cant you see my walls are crumbling?
Then he looks up at the building and says hes thinking of jumping
he says hes tired of life=
he must be tired of something
Round here I always lose my mind
Round here - got lots of time
Round here were never give up early
And nobody makes their fate
I cant see nothing, nothing round here
Let me fall when Im falling