Be my windin’ wheel.
When I find myself listening to the Ryan Adams album Heartbreaker before 9 am I know two things. One that the day will be a musical one and two I probably want to get stoned or drunk. But I’ll do neither. But I’ll want to. That’s how it works. The mean old dog may be tied up in the yard but brother you can always hear it barking. To quote a song no one but me seems to know “Geronimo, look out below, I love that rusty water just like it was my favorite dog.” That’s from a band called 7 Mary 3…A band named after the call sign of the cops on the 70’s television show CHiPs.
I am feeling particularly anti-social, in an intellectual sort of way. See most people are in fact about as deep as a wading pool and probably as smart. Only if it’s one of them wading pools you get from Walmart then the wading pool has more colour. I just find it insane how many of the rabble actually believe there is something notable about them. And it’s even more discouraging when the stupids get close. I have that unique experience alot lately, stupid people very close by who seem to think they’re lying better and fooling me or anyone else with half a brain. And in the process they do nothing but shove their heads a little deeper up their ass. Ah hell…I spend most of my time ignoring that stuff anyway just because the urge to scream becomes difficult to contain.
But I ain’t misanthropic. I just find alot of energy being spent dealing with the bumps in my roads left by others who are dragging their chains and dropping their loads.
Man I need a gift, a miracle or a grace today. I feel like I’m in a noose and the chair beneath my feet is just a rocking. So come on God, man or moon. Give me something to hold on to today. It’s a rough run.