In the fire, the world looks like its up in flames.
But it's you that burns
I slept until it got too hot. Working slowly through my list I bug bombed the basement, finished the laundry, cleaned the living room, and managed to find time to watch the "Still Reigning" DVD. With a twist and a curve, I tried to load up the live video of our show into the computer. But as usual, it crashed at the most critical moment. Casting it aside, I went to work on the song I've been staying up late trying to make sense out of. It didn't jive.
There was no shortage of silly things to say or risks to take. And I took one of them until the sattelite shutdown any rhythm that was generated. So I took to a firey dream of unrealized potential.
Love awoke me in the middle of the night, we nearly honored another life.
Some cats have a Ford Mustang, I know how they must feel behind the wheel. I busy myself with glamorous things like bug bombs and dental appointments. It's all good until they raid your home in the wee hours, looking for holes in the plaster to repaint. I worry about hanging out in the same places as these businessmen, so I move to the bus stop.
Home again and making up for lost sleep. It always takes a few days to come off the tour-high and adjust back to domestic life. But the spirit is resilient and adapts quickly to its immediate situation.
An old friend gave me a videotape of our college gang of freaks, from 87-89. I watched part of it today, awestruck at how I used to be, wishing I could go back and do it right.
Watched the Roky Erickson documentary at Lincoln Center last night, it was much better than expected. I like movies that stay with you a while after.
I returned the rental car two days late qnd they charged me triple the rate. I waited in the queue to check in my cumbersome luggage and they said I was too early, I'd have to wait an hour. Obviously someone is counting the days and the hours, if not me.
Not too much longer...