In the spirit of trying something new, I’ll give this idea a shot.  Bare (your soul) with me and let me know if you liked it.

This my excavation and today is kumran
Everything that happens is from now on
This is pouring rain
This is paralyzed

I am not sure if it’s the changing of seasons, or the new incumbent in the Oval Office, or the economy, but every one’s got the bug.  I think all the hype around ‘change’ this past year got everyone excited, and since ‘changing’ political climates isn’t something that is done overnight (or even over the course of a 4/8 year term), people are looking for immediate change more locally.  I don’t mean in the grab a garbage bag and pick up trash around your neighborhood kind of way. I mean internally.  I know I am. Everything that happens is from now on, and it can be as you want it to be.

I keep throwing it down two-hundred at a time
It’s hard to find it when you knew it
When your money’s gone
And you’re drunk as hell

I keep meaning to put more into certain things in my life, and less into others.  And there’s only so many times you can say or hear it until you want to vomit (think the Shania story in I Heart Huckabees), until you have no choice but to sick up on your shoes or to do it. Nothing was missing, it was so obvious all along, but it’s hard to find it when you knew it already. We often don’t see what’s right in front of us.

On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks are your load
In the back with your racks and you’re un-stacking your load

It’s funny how that works.  Do we resist because it’s a commitment, or do we commit because we look forward to resisting? Another classic case of the chicken and the egg.  Or the me and the shotgun that shot the rooster that the neighbors recently acquired, as it were.  The only thing that has kept it alive this long is the fact that I’ve been up before it on most of the days it decides to create a ruckus.

I’ve twisting to the sun I needed to replace
The fountain in the front yard is rusted out
All my love was down
In a frozen ground

I don’t care how warm you think 62 degrees is, you are wrong.  I know its -10, or 29 and sleeting where you are, but I’m wearing two pairs of socks, pants, a long sleeved shirt and a hoodie and I cant feel my toes.  I have no insulation, the hut walls are made from glorified cardboard, and the windows are small glass slats that don’t close fully.  The wind picks up, and it feels like winter, like I’m standing in a frozen ground waiting to be set ablaze so that I can feel all ten of my toes once more.

There’s a black crow sitting across from me; his wiry legs are crossed
And he’s dangling my keys he even fakes a toss
Whatever could it be
That has brought me to this loss?

I love my friends because they know how to hate me.  I realize that may sound weird, but that’s only because it should.  They taunt me not to feel better about themselves, but so that I feel better about myself.  Don’t try this tactic on your friends, because I’m fairly certain it only works on narcissists. Whatever could it be that makes this work? I’m not sure, but it does.  I guess you can only feel so bad, or be made to feel so bad about something for so long or to a certain point before you sick up on your shoes, or do something different. Your reminder that you refuse to settle. Not because you say so, but because you live so.

On your back with your racks as the stacks as your load
In the back and the racks and the stacks of your load
In the back with your racks and you’re un-stacking your load

Then in a familiar place again, a place where you spend all your time, you find or see something new. Whether it be the downstairs mix-up at Greg’s place, a new friend on Twitter, or a foot-long tear in the sheets in your bed.  As Shiraki would say, ‘the same, but different’.

This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization
It’s the sound of the unlocking and the lift away
Your love will be
Safe with me

This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization, they are old and tired ideas, and some played out like a Back Street Boys song in the 90’s.  They are persistent however.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it? Fuck no.  If it ain’t broke, break it, then build it back up better. I have so much to share, and so little need to share it.  You have so many secrets, and they are safe with me.