24 May, 2005
damaged goods

thinking back on all those weekends placed under self-imposed solitary confinement, assured in the knowledge that i mind had been warped by disuse, misuse or atrophy, come a weekend that flat kicks some or that crap upside the head.

i'm not going for flowery prose or eloquence, here.

grit. reality. LOUD music of the uncompromising variety. thinking fast on my feet. staying up much too late. getting up, much too early. medicating, lubricating, non-vacillating.

pushing. driving. living-thriving-surviving.

in other words, it was about time i stopped worrying and embraced the chaos... for a bit.

...and, purpose burns in my chest.

amazing what a little distorted guitar, heat, sweat, and throb of bass strings can accomplish.

and, hearing your heart hammer as if it will detach itself. and the surreal early morning clangor of traffic. and brilliant skies, so clear as if to be unreal. painfully, to parched lips and tearless eyes.

and trips to higher elevations, on the spur of a moment.

and get to the bottom and go back to the top of the slide.

next time, i'll get real.

for once.

.