Mar. 8th, 2016

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Originally published at Curse & Quanta. Please leave any comments there.

5 A.M.

I know.

What am I supposed to do? The Mad Model gives you a fringe vest and says put it on the Amazing A. What? I was gonna say no?


Glorious, isn’t she?

* * *

Turned on David Gilmour first thing this morning. I need more of Rattle That Lock. I swear, when life is hard, it’s his voice that gets me through. Back in the day, it was A Delicate Sound of Thunder and A Momentary Lapse of Reason. Learning to Fly still lifts my soul up. One Slip always makes me drive faster. On An Island leaves me wistful for travel.

Poison in the brain this morning, which is why the immediate application of prog rock. I’ve been thinking about promises and a Not So Sekrit Projekt. I’ve been thinking about how we have to Save Ourselves. And how that can hurt like hell at times. Especially for someone like me.

It’s House. It’s Everyone Lies.

It’s from the very beginning of my life and my father never keeping a single promise he ever made to me that was important. Stupid shit like never taking me to Disneyland specifically to take me and not paying for college after he swore that he would take care of it.

That’s the ultimate first betrayal. If you can’t trust your parents to take care of you, who the fuck can you trust? Certainly not the rest of the fallible human world. I loved him, but I could never trust him. I love him still. But look, he couldn’t even stick around long enough to see his grandchildren.


See previous statement about fucking poisonous brain.

So. I went to the gym. Pounded the crazy out of the brain. I need to get boxing gloves, or MMA gloves, so I can work one of the heavy bags.

Sometimes you just need to hit things really hard till the world makes sense again.


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