Shinola

A lot of good people
Pushing on through the rain
Painting whimsical rainbows
With impossible pain

Searching for salvation
Searching for love
Searching for a safe place to dream

A lot of bad people
Killing joy for money
Killing peace for kicks
Pissing on batteries in the name
Of righteous indignation

I got a whole suitcase full of madness
Demons and monsters instead of brain cells
I got more pain in my bugged out head
Than any one man should have to bear

But just for today
I’m going to get myself quietly shitfaced
And keep trying to devise
The spaced out alchemical algorithm

That will convert all this excess emotion
Small oil tankers of pain
Freight trains packed full of anger
Convert all this shit to Shinola
And keep polishing the blues

golly

Sublimating Sorrow

I may be getting a bit manic I said, giggling nervously and thinking of the next 50 things that I absolutely had to say in the next 7 minutes. What makes you think that? Well I did sleep a good 8 hours – over the last three days. And have been blogging like a demon, solving the meaning of life and planning to sell about a decade’s worth of art for small change.

Why do you think it’s happening?

That’s refreshing. The official script reads – “Have you been taking your pills?”
Look, far be it from to condone neurochemically irresponsible behaviour. I would love it if we all could chill. But the thing is some of us can’t – I can’t. Perhaps there is a chemical solution to the condition that is called David. But having just timidly exited a 37 year long experiment in sublimating sorrow with chemical potions I don’t think it’s possible.

I’m sorry to do this to you!
Do what?

Well it can’t be easy. Yesterday I’m all sunshine and rainbows and butterflies then today I’m down in the dumps. Did you say it’s ok. Or perhaps let’s discuss it. My brain has lost Terabytes of information since then. I can’t remember my dreams on your couch and I can’t remember you in my dreams.

It can be unsettling. You meet me and I’m happy and charming and energetic. Then next thing it’s tears, misery, sulleness, aggression.

Was that how it was for your girlfriends?
For some of them.
Is that how it is for you?

I’m not sure. I think alcohol and codeine made it less painful for me. Did fuckall for my significant others though. I’m getting a taste of my own medicine now – being stuck in an abusive relationship with myself – without the fuzzy distant feeling. That wonderful warm fuzzy distant feeling.

Perhaps it’s a form of sublimation? The mania that’s coming on. Sliding seductively closer – like a fucking out of control freight train.

I’m looking at the artificial orchid that I thought had magical powers for 3 months. Wanting to look at you. Your eyes have magical powers. Don’t they? Don’t tell me there’s no such thing as magic.

You’re fired
You’re joking
Perhaps I am

I can sublimate libido, turn my desire into silver words but how do I sublimate sorrow? Without drugs. Without sex. Without madness.
Time is up. Time is always up. Suicide is easy, god is dead and time is up.

Nothing matters unless I let it. Is this right? It seems right.

We’ll discuss it tomorrow ….

comfortably-numb

Evil Words

I think I broke something
Something fragile and precious
That existed between us

I felt that we were drifting apart
But perhaps that was just me
Sinking back into myself

I saw signs of your cruelty
And carelessness everywhere
Or was that just my narcissistic paranoia?

And all may well have been alright
May have turned out alright
If I’d kept my mouth shut

But I let evil into the world
Fearfully, carelessly, selfishly
Again

And we can never be
Innocently trusting
Again

arundhati

See Me

Under the guise of Nakedness
I am as cold as a razor blade
And darkly opaque
Vanishing slowly as only a seasoned exhibitionist knows how.

You said, hurriedly, towards the never-ending ending
That perhaps your own absence had a taste

It tastes like comfort exploding so slowly
That only my soul feels it at all.

But down deep we are strangers
Dangling our toes in the cool dark water near the shore
Of a darkly dreaming inter-subjective abyss

There is no center
No resting point in the dance of desperate signification
Just endless broken clones
Godhead shattered
Purity infected
Sanity sanitized and become a new toy of the mad

I like it when you see me
I like the fact that you want to see me
But this quagmire Freudian cozy swampy couch
Swallows me faithfully
And you circle like a dove or a vulture
In your straight-backed precocious chair

This ramble
More than the rest
Means just about nothing – or everything
But thank you for going on the journey with me

dream_2a6e7e9873 (1)

Next Time

unravel

I think my main mistake was I tried to force.
Everything.
It was fucking exhausting.

And to try to squeeze you into a box.
Cut off your arms and legs and put you in a block of cement
Which I called love.

And throw the block of cement into the dark cold ocean of my soul.
As if that would turn an underwater wasteland
into a flowery meadow of love and joy and pizza.

So next time
I may just let things
Unfold and not unravel

Truly Almost Glad

salvador-dali-gala-of-spheres-1359583056_b

I was so sure you were real…

Even though when we shagged
You weren’t in the room
And the more I said I love you
The less you seemed to care

Perhaps I was not real
Not present
Somehow lacking
In vigour or grace

Perhaps you were not ready
Or not that impressed
As I sang about loyalty
While stalking your soul

So I crafted a fiction
About redemption
Retribution
Softness
and lies

It’s on me
On my karmic account
All the unwanted attention
The cheap white wine and cheeseburgers
Meaningless phonecalls
And silly desperate jokes

And I’m truly almost sorry
Truly almost glad
You were the best Imaginary Lover
That I never had

Going Home

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The fact that I am a man
Who has wandered far and wide
And seen things and heard things
That made almost no sense at all
Does not for a moment mean
That I have lost the need
For a place to call home

So I’m giving away
The little that I have
And heading back
To mother and father
The mountain and the sea

But it’s not just another crazy escape
Because this time I know
That home is more than a state of mind
It’s a place where the heart can be free