iDallas!
Sitting and singing softly to myself.
A small, but noisy bird makes it way onto my plate.
BIRD!
Some things are just unforgiveable.
Fortunately, this is not one of those things.
I smack the bird away with my hand, and continue singing.
My plate is still empty, however.
I’ve actually been having trouble thinking of things I genuinely want to complain about lately. I could complain about the cleaning crew we have leaving as much of a mess as they cleaned up. Or I could complain about people leaving a mess in the snack area, or about the smell of smoke in the pool room. Yep. I could.
I don’t seem to want to, though.
OH! I DO want to complain about the MIDI problems I’ve been having. What an annoyance. It just keeps getting worse, too. Frick frack.
I’ll still churn out the best GD track the world has ever seen, though! Ahaha. Yep. At least one that might get a few people moving anyway. We’ll see. Luck be with me!
“I was born a little too late to see the dream that they called America.”
Fifteen.
That line put so many thoughts into my head. It’s from the album called “Choice of a New Generation”. Funny. I just rediscovered it after a couple of years of not listening to it, and I am realizing that I really missed it.
I’ve been listening to a lot of pop punk lately, actually. It keeps me energized.
One summer several years ago, I didn’t sleep very much, and I’m not even sure I ate that much, and somehow I managed to totally change my life, with the help of some friends.
I still wear the Fifteen shirt I have. It has paint on it from that summer when we were painting the walls of a place we had called the Minot Collective Cultural Center.
If it wasn’t for that place and those people, I think my life would be entirely different now. They showed me that I could do whatever I wanted however I wanted and I didn’t have to listen to anybody if I didn’t want to.
Of course, it’s still always a good idea to listen to people with good ideas. It really is pretty hard to figure out exactly who those people are, though.
Why is it so hard for people to connect the way you expect them to be able to when you are a child?
And why does it make so sad to think that things really aren’t the way I thought they were when I was a child?
Shifty shy and the shiney sonuvaguns started watching the sunset every evening one day, and they just never went back.
I have been feeling the weight of wanting love and loving lately. That old thing. Again. But, many times I have come to the conclusion that there really isn’t anything else worth thinking about. When it comes down to it, there really isn’t anything much else at all.
I guess there is always thinking. And thinking about thinking. And humming. And thinking about humming. And thinking about loving. And humming about thinking about loving. Hummm.
I stand here with my wet dog, shaking my ass at the passing cars. Haha. What a sight they must think of me. Yeah.
And so I take my shaking butt and my wet dog and together I and my dog, we visit the naked woman with the gigantic ears and the even more gigantic breasts and we lay ourselves down in her hairy lap and she lets her ears droop down over us, and the dog, still wet, laps at the hanging lobes.
She loves that so. The dog and the woman both. And boy oh boy, I love anything my dog loves.
lovers and loving
huggers and hugging
singers and thinking
all hand in hand.
sinkers and sinking
droopers and drooping
drippers and sipping
all together at once,
and apart but looking inward.
We, alone but together,
feeling memories dripping down
from the clouds of perspiration
drifting up from our sweaty brows.
Nothing changes.
Nothing changes.
Nothing changes.
Nothing changes.
I do not change.
I want to change.
I wish I could change.
I feel the change,
in my pocket.
And I hold on to it.
pounding my head against my fists,
or maybe just thinking about it.
I’m trying to realize what it is that I don’t know, but the obstacle of maybe not really wanting to know keeps creeping in.
Fear. Yep. That’s the word.
Pain, maybe. Who’s to say?