~*~ Cold Kamikaze Blues ~*~
I can tell you a story, but it’s not just a story-it’s a life. A life like an ice castle of antiquity, hell & grace. Cold, colder, frozen and stifling; and heated like Hades in the summer-time. And that’s where the blues come in. And too often, the black & blues. Ever wonder why? If you’re me you do. Why did I arrive? Was I put or placed? Where have I been, how did I get there? Where am I going. Maybe I can just stop. Maybe when the world has fucked you, you can’t pretend everything is rose petals. Some pretend, some depend, some attend, some descend. And some of us just bellow a hearty “fuck you” while looking into the cosmic, shady, eye-socketed abyss of the masses. They’ll burn., sure their Karma says they’ll burn, but, they’ll burn.... mark my jaded $50 words. This world can not be in my life. Does it have a heart? Grab it, still beating & throw it to the Croc’s. At least we all won’t starve tonight. My bad days are just a reaction to petty, overbearing, pious slobs that buy their ass-backward, exaggerated version of degradation on sale at K-Mart. And I wonder, when will I “go postal” on these folks? Perhaps when “going postal” means more than getting pettily pissed off because you spilled coffee on your $800 suit, that’s when. So I rant & vent. What is it, and why do I need it? My bad days are inspirational. My bad days are hazardous to my health & anyone else’s. My bad days are creative & torturous. My bad days regurge all over your freshly painted faces. My bad days are pure, depressed monologues filled with glitter, soul, tears, blood, gun powder, hard looks & dirty knox. My bad days eat their bad days for lunch. My bad days give me insight. I notice the world too much for my own good. With their “easy-pain-killin’ ways” by inflicting it on others. And for the life or death of me, why do I think so much. I analyze, breakdown, pros/cons, upside, downside, consequences, changes, feelings, boredom, nonsense. Yet, I don’t fail, don’t pack it in, don’t give up.... This black sheep doesn’t “baah” like everyone else. Too volatile, too aware, to perceptive, too generous, too kind, too cruel, too strong, too warm, too cold, too honest, too loyal, too real, too intelligent, too gullible, too mean, too opinionated, too sad, too silent, too unwilling, too spiritual, too old fashioned, too plain, too flamboyant, too private, too dark, too tragic. Are these the pros & cons? And who’s to say which is which? -C. 3/19/98
~*~ Highway Prophets ~*~
~*~ Beautiful Ruse ~*~
~*~ Heaven With a Gun ~*~
~*~pictured above is Marie Laveau's Tomb, New Orleans~*~
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