August 4, 2013 § Leave a comment
The music dropped in my blood and I realised it would keep me up for at least an hour. An hour I thought would be best spent with you. In the past days I’ve realised that it is our friends that will prove to be our salvation. That wild unconditional love. Like a mothers love, but on the level, open, more understanding. They pick you up. Friends are all ups, I’ve found. Friends are love. Love are dangerous. Real lovers. They are a gamble. Like you are investing your blood on something. The wideness of your vessels. Those sky rocket ups. Those lead based free falls. The heart-based stock. Imagine. If there was a Wall Street somewhere where people were trading love. Pushing and shouting and waving and screaming in their bright jackets, trying to buy it low and sell it high. Merging those that needed it. Like a soulless, stress-filled, modern day cupid. Wouldn’t that be something? It sure as hell would. A trading floor covered in broken hearts instead of broken wallets. But what I’m saying is, friend stock, it’s safe stock all the way.
I breathe deep and feel my fingers. Have you noticed that no one listens to CDs any more? It’s a shame, they’re so much better, the quality I mean, there’s so much more there than the alternative. I listen to CDs like people smoke cigars. I wait for the right moment. Light it up. Let it burn, all the way. Every time.
I’ve been around a fair few years and the most important thing I have learnt from my time is that satisfaction is fleeting and elusive. It’s also essential. Also I’m not bullet proof. There’s no way that’s true despite how I felt when I was younger. There’s hole that’s been shot clean through my heart and these bones are a ticking clock just waiting to be broken. But that’s life, the sooner you come to terms with the this the soon you buy that smile and spread it wide across your face. The sooner you stop writing notes in the night and making deals with your god. The sooner you find peace, which, by the way, is also fleeting.
The song’s hang out of the speakers. Those old 60’s style drum beats. The ones that roll and twist through the air on the way to the ear. The ones where you can actually hear the drugs and see the colours in those tones. The bottles sat dripping their last in the floor and the dull early morning sunlight was peeking through everything it could. It finds that strange twilight between party end and morning waking. That hue. That sweat and stink. The down. The deep, deep downs. But that’s OK. Because these are the people I’ve become accustomed to being here with. They are my life support. They prop me up, even just with memories. Balanced. Settled. Missing like a removed organ. They run in my blood. They are the reason I still breathe in.