Burning long and low like Russian cigarettes.
February 7, 2013 § 1 Comment
“Was each new page an outrage?” Al Baker & The Dole Queue. – Green Lights and Gasoline.
Perfection was more persistence than pistol shots, to me at least. The things that have been worked for, the struggles, the worthwhile outcomes, are earned through attrition. Pulling triggers on guns isn’t the sort of knee jerk reaction which is required for real change. No reward should be given for such rash, snatching at what’s needed. Regardless of intention. I’ve always said, it’s not what you know, it’s what you were thinking at the time. You have to be careful of that. You have to get on top of it. It’s not enough to know stuff, it’s not enough to seek new information, you must know when think it. To do this, I think, you have to make mistakes. Maybe natural intelligence isn’t the ability to soak up new information, or the ability to use it at the right time like a twisted card game, maybe natural intelligence lies in the infrequency of the mistakes.
People pick people apart. Have you noticed? Maybe it’s a chain and that’s why they do it. People watch people, they see the faults, they pass comment, they tell to anyone who will listen, exactly what they would do in that situation. The thing that bothered me about that is that it seems so natural. It just rolls off the tongue. It’s easy. No credentials are required. It bothered me that. Still does in fact. This one’s just rolling out.
I had my caged rattled but the bird settled after weeks. Who am I kidding? I rattled my cage myself. I’m the only one who can do a proper job of that. It was messy. Everything was plain sailing until the boat ended up on the desert plain. Fucked. Black dog. Knee hugging bouts of insanity. Really had think about sticking or twisting. Really thought about it. Got out. Calmed down. Sometimes in life you need to hug your knees, sit tight, and just hope to god that your brain doesn’t slip from your ear. You need your brain. A lot is made of the lungs and the heart but it’s the brain that makes it all go. It’s the brain that keeps you happy. It’s the brain that makes you OK. But only if you look after it. You can’t keep on kicking seven bells of shit out of it just for a laugh. Those are the breaks. Some peoples brains can take more poison than others. That’s important to remember. Just ‘cos you shot Jessie James, that don’t make you Jessie James. People are fickle, people are fighters, they’re lovers and scrappers and dangerous, lost, alone, scared, brave, so very brave, smiling, sad, 9 to 5’s, day dreamers, hard workers, long haulers, safe, sharp, shocked and shamed. But beautiful, so very fucking beautiful. Those are the flash back – blur memories I have of people. If you put them all in sports style montage, that’s what you’d see.
I’d like to slow down. I’d like to watch that. I’d like to sit on a beach with those people I love, let them bring their friends, set up some string lights, all different colours like Christmas, wait until just after the sunsets and project the images onto a big old wall, let the people see all the good times. Just the good times. Play something beautiful over the top. Something easy. Something sweet. That’ll do, you can close curtains on that.