It doesn’t stop, does it? It just keeps rolling along no matter what is said or done or thought or acted. You can watch it and try and savor the sweetness as it comes to you, but it will just go on. You can wish the darkness your world spinning world away, but it won’t make it go faster. You can daydream and make up anything you want in your head, but still things will be as heartbreaking as they ever have been.
I went to Queens today and as I sat on the roof of my friend’s apartment and gazed out over that city that I love but have yet to conquer, I thought to myself as I had been doing since I woke up this morning, and every time I woke from my intoxicated dreams last night, and when I stared at all the liquid promise that I had been filling in my cup. I thought to myself and when I did, it was the same. But it’s not. No it’s not at all. I’ve been, darker? I can’t even say that. I don’t know what I can say. I don’t know what to do but that’s just because I’m a good liar. In fact, I’d say benevolent, but that would be a lie also.
It’s not like I don’t get attention. I get plenty. There are people who want my attention that I ignore and I’m evil for knowing it and still refusing it. I’m evil because I’m vain and greedy and selfish. I’m evil because I am man and man makes war. Why does man make war?
Don’t ask because I won’t tell you the truth. I’ll sculpt my own fate with lies. I design the most beautiful lies that will become my home and every morning I can wake up and look through the faint and fading words to things that never again be near. They’ll forever be just a sight at best, or a tattered foolish memory. And that memory may itself be a lie, but I couldn’t tell you. All I can tell you is that I was once younger and despite my juvenile appearance I can feel the hope of a young drunk fool fall into something that only was. It’s true and oh the symbolism! In about a month, I will no longer be a teenager. I’ve felt time take the feeling away.
And yet this liar is also a coward. He hides behind the same thoughts because anything else is scary because what if I mess up, or what if there’s nothing better out there and it would have taken a stronger person than the one in front of you to make it real. But you can’t even make anything real. I can’t.
I’m tired and my mind is quitting but I know if I try and lay my head down to sleep, nothing will come. I know that tomorrow I will think about the same themes that have been there. It’s stupid too be wasting all of this life on worrying about whether I’m cool enough.
Damn you! Damn you for the hope! Damn you for being! Damn it all to Hell! Damn it, I’ll be right back. I need to get something to chase this whiskey with because I’ll be damned if I don’t get some drunk writing in.
Now that John Jameson and I have spoken for a bit, I’ve been wodering if I should have bought that acid off of that guy outside of Penn Station. I mean, he was a pretty cool guy. He was wearing a shirt that said “Super 8” on it and we talked about music and festivals. I also talked to a nice man outside of Grand Central today. The conversation started because he asked me about my cane. It was my mace, because it is mine now until I pass it on.
And there it comes again; that impending feeling of running out of time because it’s squandered. That feeling I get that scares the ever loving shit out of me. Maybe you know what I’m talking about. Have you ever been so scared that you may have to be the one that leads a generation? Have you ever been scared that you may have to be the one to stop all of the nonsense and change the world but you can barely change you own life? Well if you have, what the fuck? Why aren’t we helping each other out? Then again, fuck you. Maybe this needs to be done by me and me alone. Alone. That’s what scares me. Maybe the person who does such things is doomed to the martyred life of loneliness. That’s scares me. Like I said, I’m a coward.
There was a part of me that was brave once. There was a part of me that was fascinated and eager and inspired. He never hangs around anymore. I know he’ll come back, but never be the same. I know that someday I’ll be strong enough to deal with all of my demons, it’s just not today. I also know that the boy in all of those moments is gone. Never will I ever get to have those visions be real and physical. I wish I had been paying better attention.