Saturday, December 31, 2011
a New Cult
i drove with the windows down this morning. open road - kissed out sky full of nothing clouds. my memories of you didn't last the year. i lied about that. i wrote about you instead, threw the paper away. clear my space. clear my head. what the fuck is in store for the new year?
It was about age 7 when i became fully aware of the cameras following me around.. a documentary film crew was filming my life. At least that's how I saw it from then on out. I don't know why, the inner conversations, the endless interviews..all the things i said and did were not just for me but for the world to see. my first kiss, Id smile from behind her back into the invisible camera. later on a thumbs up into the darkness after a sweaty session of sex. I was important and interesting. everything i had to say quotable. All the funerals, the online hook-ups, the road trips, the motel rooms, the music, the stories, the words, the tits, the ass. I wasn't just making movies, i was living them. the down time on the cutting room floor. the hours alone reading and writing and jerking off. the two or three lives we all live. inside, outside and the secret one we long for.
the windows down the air cool the sun high. I try to think of adjectives and proverbs and short little words that feel like breathing and sinking. that's what this is, a quick fade left and jab and hook. another fight. another tooth missing. another head ache. I need about 100,000 dollars so i can quit my job and just write words all day. just live the real fake life. treasure hunt. fuck my wife when she comes home. meet my lover in a motel room 200 miles away. find the loose ends. let them go.
I promise the last word i wont say this year is "sorry". Ill tell you that much, I'm living it all like i want to now. I'm doing nothing you want me to do and everything fun. I'm being good and true and dirty and messing with all the wrong buttons. I'm driving fast and dreaming hard and using it all. I'll make up the rest as we go along. fake it until the end of the line. until we bruise and bleed. pretty words with brutal definitions. i can see her running in the distance. running through the snow, the mud , the salt water. closer and closer. reach out your hand, jump this train. come along for the ride.
A mid west girl