Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Tomorrow Who Knows Where We'll Be

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones always remind me of dancing down Voltaire Street and smoking in the Nature Preserve...
My friends always hated my music, but I always supplied the weed...and I was always in charge.
I remember the first time The Jester asked me what I wanted to do when I came back from Arizona.
I just stared at him and Catwoman, because for once I didn't know.
Today Kitty said she "never thought she would see this."
What? You ask.
Satan and I speaking like civilized people, she really has been gone a long time.
And she missed all the years of us becoming tentative friends.
She was there the night that we met though...
Let's not get into that one.
I'm obsessed with Damnesia, the Alkaline Trio's acoustic album; best decision they ever made.
My favorite album still has to be Good Mourning; followed closely by Goddamnit, From Here to Infirmary, and their self-titled...in that order.
I'm still completely in love with Matt Skiba, and that story about how he and his wife got matching key tattoos instead of names.
And he used to have an OPIV tattoo, but the artwork was shitty 'cause it was done by a hick; so now he has a tattoo that says "cover-up"
Yep, I still love them.
Quit listening to them for awhile, because every song would make me sad; but enough time has passed...
I should get payed for writing, seriously I just spew this shit out of my ass.
I wonder if I can make an even seventy posts this month...I know it sounds like a lot, but it's to make up for not really writing since before I moved to Arizona.
I mean, my loyal readers *cough, cough* missed Catwoman getting alcohol poisoning (presumably).
I'm not sure what else would possess her to think that Mister J was Michael Jackson.
And yet, everyone felt worse for the Cadillac than they did for her (but nobody tell her that).
Yep, there's a lot more stuff that I just never got around to writing about...
So this is my apology to the Gods of the Blogosphere.
Wait, is that a word?
Why didn't it spellcheck me?
Sometimes I feel like playing Russian Roulette by myself, with all the lights turned off.
Click
Click
Click
Click
Click
............
Well, aren't I morbid.
I wouldn't actually do that though, I have more dignity than to kill myself in such a silly way.
Not that anyone should take my suicidal urges seriously anyway...
We've been through how suicide is selfish, and how it takes more courage to keep living.
These conversations have been had before.
Some mornings it's impossible to get out of bed, because everything is just grey.
But that doesn't mean that I don't hold value on my own life.
And you get through everything one way or another, tomorrow will undoubtedly show up, the sun will rise...
We'll get one more chance to get things right, and one day we won't have any more chances...that day isn't today though.
This is the beautiful thing about life, it's usually pretty long and every minute you live is a chance to be happy.

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