Shit can get heavy man, seriously, really heavy, and so it goes here in the lounge lately as we wait for death to knock on the door, see the girl's mom has a tumor and that tumor has been ravaging her brain and this tumor has some incredibly long name that in loungespeak translates into "you're fucked" and pretty soon the game is gonna come to an end. If the so called Gods had any compassion they would've ended this game sooner but as we all know what the Gods lack in compassion they make up for with a sense of humor, i saw Clash of the Titans, i know how crooked they are but still it's rough when i get in the car for the drive back to the Burgh and the poor girl sits next to me crying and wondering if that's the last time she's ever gonna see her mother, for those of us lucky enough to still have our parents bugging us we should think long and hard about that statement, the woman is 58, most of the women in her family have lived into their 80's and if you really want to watch heartbreak it's when her 80-some year old parents show up knowing they are going to have to bury one of their children... and really what is there to say? i've already stood on my soapbox and told you all to enjoy every second, i've told the girl to tell her mom she loves her every chance she gets even if she doesn't remember it ten seconds later, but i know it's little comfort as you watch the woman who gave birth to you slowly waste away, her body and mind breaking down more and more every day, for awhile the poor lady knew what was happening to her and now thankfully she doesn't really know anymore, the hard part falls on the ones left to watch and wait.
So shit gets heavy and we drove back and i fed the imaginary boy dinner and it felt like yesterday that he fit in the palm of my hand and now he feeds himself and has this personality and tells me stuff and likes helicopters and he makes me laugh, makes me forget about all the heavy shit, and i gave him a bath and read him a book and laid him in his crib where he proceeded to review every word, sentence, object he knows in order not to fall asleep and then when he finally does decide he's ready i must rub his back and if i stop to soon he lets fly with these perfect fake whines, so today apparently i stopped to soon and was standing in the doorway when his whines start up, little noises made with a grin on his face mind you, so i walked back over as the sun was setting through his window and sang him that song, yes, you know, the one by the little green frog and he fell asleep and i stood there and listened to him breathe and then i walked out of his room, to right here, waiting for the shit to get heavy but still humming... someday we'll find it/ the rainbow connection/ the lovers, the dreamers and me la-da-da-dee-da-da-da. That one's for you Gi-gi, from your daughter, your grandson and some big fucking monkey