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sirens are screaming When I close my eyes I see flames licking wall tapestries, stalking like wolves stealing away with sleeping babies. This fire's subtle. The house is burning. Too bad we used the batteries from the smoke detector for the remote control. Sarcasm is funny. Cynical people make more interesting conversation. Everyone's a critic. All the artists are slobbering drunk or sleeping in gutters. This is a city built on top of garbage and dead bodies. Life is more fun when you have someone to feel superior to. I'm tired of this easy California life. Paradise is boring. Perfection gets old. I'm worried about growing passive and lazy, even more so. I've never suffered a day in my life. And I'm not saying I want to. But I don't want to feel numb. I don't want to feel dead. Perhaps it's human nature to be dissatisfied. Perhaps this drive to seek something out is a symptom of that. I'm on a fools journey, looking for something that doesn't exist. What you used to have and loathe always looks great when things get terrible. You need a good sense of humor to make it. Dog eat dog, right? Hell, I honestly don't think it would be that bad if we just let people kill each other if they want to. Fuck it. Why not? Is that so much worse than being policed, than having no choice in the matter? We're only being murdered figuratively this way, and exploited, and terrorized, but at least we're not dead in the literal sense of the word. I don't even care. Just give me a rocking chair and a banjo on a porch in the everglades, and a few hurricane free years. Give me the rain and the mud, and real love, give me sleepy sex and lazy mornings, foggy sunrises and a 15 minute walk to the general store, and give me the fucking truth for once. Let me write songs and paint self portraits without feeling trapped. Give me silence. Let me actually see the stars for once, and the light of the moon without a Safeway sign glowing in the foreground. Give me trees to walk in that aren't bordered by a highway. I feel like I'm living in the Truman Show. But not just me, all of us. This is a circus. Disneyland is more fascist than Hitler was, but we PAY to go there. I don't mind using my body, in fact I might relish it. I don't mind hard work, if I feel like I'm getting something done. But selling overpriced popcorn and sodas to exploited zombies to make a rich corporation richer doesn't feel like productivity to me. Shit, I'll take a small cabin and wood chopping, harvesting crops, and do-it-yourself living over this bullshit anyday. Why is it that I feel like I have to escape? Cities are like carnivals, they're entertaining, but they're stupid and don't have much point. They're a denial of who we are. I don't want that much really. Nobody gave me a choice when I got here, whether this was the life I wanted. And I know that's the point. But I'm beginning to realize that even though I didn't have one then, I have one now. I don't have to stay. And I know not everyone can say that. So I'm grateful. I'm one of the lucky ones. ----- - - 6:32 p.m. , January 29, 2005 personal empowerment - 9:48 p.m. , January 12, 2005 jaksdf - 7:22 p.m. , December 19, 2004 the break up - 11:08 p.m. , December 16, 2004 fists of rage - 6:28 p.m. , December 13, 2004 |