February 4, 2014 § Leave a comment
“It was good to be alive” – Holland 1945 Neutral Milk Hotel.
Let the boy wax lyrical. Let him feel that heart beat in his chest and blood in his veins and lightness in his fingertips. Let the words twist up and spin and dance. Let the records play and rip through the night air with that thick heavy sound. Let him be free.
Judge him not for his indiscretions as they are just a stepping stone on the path of education. Just another lesson that had to be learnt at some point. Just let him be. Let the night roll thick and easy and true. Let it be the solid whitewash memories that are reminisced over through almost every reunion until they put us in the ground. Let it move and slide and slip and settle where it lies.
But don’t let him preach. Don’t let him tell you what to do. Don’t let him talk and preach and tell the world how it should be. Make sure he pays the world the gratitude that it has paid to him by just letting him be, for now at least.
Let him roll. Let him drink and smoke and fight and screw until there are no beats left in his heart, no blood left in his veins. Let him be wild eyed, fall down, staring at the stars drunk. Let him ride. Let him roll. Let him go.