Wednesday, November 19, 2003
Just Replace The Bulb...
~
Walking in at exactly two, I could tell by the smell of my shoes that I'd pissed in one too many downhill alleys on the way home. The smell of my feet said that I'd been standing too long and it was time to get horizontal. Two-oh-one and some ideas are down but I'm still getting warmer with this scarf enstrangling me. So many colours. I just can't bring myself to take it off. But like the song says, "I wish I was in Tokyo" -- the difference is that you'd have to be a millionaire, a lunatic or on someone else's tab to have a good time. Most days, we're all three, so let the good times start. Write that on my grave or when they scatter my ashes. Make sure to bring steel drums and that everyone's looking fashionable. If not, the whole thing'll fall apart. Consider it my "one big thing." Most days I wish I could appreciate the mysticism of lyrics; instead I dream of the syllables to say what's on the brain, but all the comes is stuccoed walls, dirty windows and peeled ceilings. Hypnotized into interim thoughts, I get lost in hills, sunshine, red oaks punctuated by philosophy. When you stop life for a minute -- and it only takes once to start the addiction -- you wonder how odd it is to watch yourself behave the way you do, as an animal, unchained, unbridled, taken by every gust, heat wave and fresh tide. Just replace the bulb and it'll be happy again. Things'll improve. Don't worry about them. Trust. Me.
S*
2003.11.20 - 2:24 a.m. KST (EST - 14 hrs)
Walking in at exactly two, I could tell by the smell of my shoes that I'd pissed in one too many downhill alleys on the way home. The smell of my feet said that I'd been standing too long and it was time to get horizontal. Two-oh-one and some ideas are down but I'm still getting warmer with this scarf enstrangling me. So many colours. I just can't bring myself to take it off. But like the song says, "I wish I was in Tokyo" -- the difference is that you'd have to be a millionaire, a lunatic or on someone else's tab to have a good time. Most days, we're all three, so let the good times start. Write that on my grave or when they scatter my ashes. Make sure to bring steel drums and that everyone's looking fashionable. If not, the whole thing'll fall apart. Consider it my "one big thing." Most days I wish I could appreciate the mysticism of lyrics; instead I dream of the syllables to say what's on the brain, but all the comes is stuccoed walls, dirty windows and peeled ceilings. Hypnotized into interim thoughts, I get lost in hills, sunshine, red oaks punctuated by philosophy. When you stop life for a minute -- and it only takes once to start the addiction -- you wonder how odd it is to watch yourself behave the way you do, as an animal, unchained, unbridled, taken by every gust, heat wave and fresh tide. Just replace the bulb and it'll be happy again. Things'll improve. Don't worry about them. Trust. Me.
S*
2003.11.20 - 2:24 a.m. KST (EST - 14 hrs)
