Demons be gone/away from me/ so put on your rose fur coat baby cuz it's 1993/ my love/ these dreams i have each night/ i stare into a blinding light/ alone i stare.... these days lately have been a beautiful distraction from the normally dark cloud that descends upon me every late September, the touchstone is that year, 1993, the halcyon days in the sun, young and stupid with an easy smile and wicked black humor, the days so far away yet stuck behind my eyes as if i was still waking up in that sweltering roominghouse with an uncertain future and not a care in the fucking world, yes kids i've talked about that year, the Wilderness Years began quite possibly in 1993, the re-birth of a large hairy boy into the hardest man in the world, a phrase once uttered to me by the girl, the one i live with, describing what it's been like to deal with me for the past years, but 1993, fucking hell, etched into this fragmented skull, i expect to see all again as i head for the big sleep and if so they can look this up to understand why i died with a smile on my face, but i've got tricks kids, like any good poker player i can't just let the good parts go first now can i and so soon i will describe the one from that summer, the girl who i fell in love with, the one who fell in love with me, the kind of blindingly white hot relationship that leaves a mark on you forever, the kind that is burns so hot that it's impossible to hold onto, the kind that causes pain and pleasure and is so intense it's better than any drug i've ever taken, like lightening in a bottle it's impossible to predict and even harder to re-capture, try as you might, if defines a version of happiness that in the end i hope every single one of the people who read this will or have experienced it and it all goes back to that summer when the boy became the man and has been better for it ever since...
and of course this is the end of summer, summer's kiss, a moon that's full and pink like the lips that take me back 17 years and as i walked to the coffee shop i could not help but smile, smile at the beautiful girl in the red dress waiting for the bus, smile in explaining to her that 17 years ago i would have stopped and talked and ended up with a number or a date or waking up in her apartment, instead though i just smiled and kept walking thinking i'm the luckiest man alive, thinking of two little boys with their daddy's eyes, thinking of my bad habits and the ways to break them, thinking that maybe i'm finally getting this game down, this writing game and i'm going to give you dope, guns and fucking, i'm gonna go down swinging, doped on pills or stoned on grass or staring at the bottle or maybe just maybe as the clean living wild eyed boy but here it comes either way, hope your ready, the bar is open.
(Summer's Kiss, the song is found on the brilliant album by the Afghan Whigs pictured above, it come highly recommended with the Kono seal of approval)
It feels so goddamned good to burn.
reading the words, i struggle to remember. i've become quite the ninja of revisionist emotional history - and now i'm not sure i've ever loved, or been loved, like that.
i sleep with a dog and drive a sturdy old jeep. that's all i can remember about love...
looking forward to your words, kono...
You'll get fleas.
Who's this asshole think he is anyway?
Dolce- yes it does doesn't it.
Daisy- maybe it's what we call the wine of youth but damn i wish everyone could experience it, technically i think it borders on a mental illness and you never know when it will happen, even to the jaded and bitter like us.
Gulfboot- i already got 'em and you Dr. Frankenfurter are responsible for creating this monster.
Johnnie- I'm Tyler Durden.
I feel like we share some crazy experiences, this being one of them.
Can't wait to read about it!
Love that song, by the way. :)
...don't pin your hopes
or pin your dreams
to misanthropes or guys like me
the truth is overrated
Someday, I will have that kind of love. Nope, prolly not. I am way too puritanical about myself.
I've had it and I'm scared to have it again
Sybil- you didn't live in Ocean City did you? and the Whigs are one of my all time favorite bands, Greg Dulli's like a fucking hero to me, get to see him in a tiny club at the end of Oct.
Twin- It's a wonderful lie, i still get by on those...
Rassles- Puritanical is not the word i think of when i think of Rassles.
Nurse- Somehow i knew you'd get it.
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