Monday, December 7, 2009

I begged you to stab me, you tore my shirt open

what is the proudest moment of our lives? is it getting drunk for the first time or is sitting in your room at 3 am listening to the gravel ridden voice of Tom Waits, hiding behind his sunken metaphors from all sorts of problems my mind can not even begin to handle right now. seconds pass and I'm still confused about everything I'm even attempting artistically, but the word quit refuses to even seep from my cracked lips. mean while i sit and wait, constantly jumpy never really sleeping because who the fuck knows how to manage their time and how the fuck would I know to go about that in the first place. We are born to wait, born to be delayed, born to fall in line because we would rather fuck our brains out then create, were born to fly but cement has sunken our wings and born creatures of habit and it is that characteristic, that makes us sigh, long and loud and made me almost punch a hole in whole foods tonight.
however we do create, and we do conquer and we do the jitterbug but can we depend on our minds? depend on them enough to bring ourselves to give away that teddy bear, to throw out that wrist band from the first show you went too? better yet, do we have rights to the bravery that takes? Yes, someday ill drive a motor vehicle and maybe some day ill learn the piano and be able to play Tom Traubert's blues to whatever person has 7 minutes to listen to me do my best Waits.
but sooner or later we all get older and we realize that no matter how much we've accomplished it is not enough. I feel like laughing sometimes when i talk to older people who say those things to me because i know they've accomplished things and my mind is ready to run full speed ahead to that time and not worry about the completion of anything that has to do with film and just talk about all my accomplishments instead, but until that day comes i will silent the doubters and keep marching on to that sunset at the bottom of the hill.

you can't not love that.

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