Well, okay, so i'm a mess. I don't deny it. I don't think I'm the unpleasant kind of mess, though.
Someone I never met was gunned down by police on Tuesday. To quote the Butthole Surfers, Strangers Die Every Day but, this time the person in question was only 1 degree removed. It sends a sort of cosmic shiver up my spine, and I have a lot of empathy for the people left behind, but all in all, I was shocked at my lack of compassionate outrage. I'm more upset about it now, thinking about how unnecessary and destructive this entire situation was.
"white linen on your back
black secrets on your mind
a past you tried to hide
and a life you left behind
The pastel days and neon nights
the guilty hearts and alibis,
the streets run red on Ocean drive
but can our love survive?
I've seen too many of the wrong men die
for stealing their dreams and buying time
in your eyes I saw the rising sun,
and still I sold my soul for a badge and a gun"
Time for another one of those "fearless and searching Moral Inventories," I guess. nyeah. The world is still roughly where it was last time I thought about such nonsense. What's the point?
At least I'm creatively charged, to some extent, lately. Nothing shines, though.
The landlord's helper monkeys will be tearing my bathrooms apart here in SF, so i'm considering not bothering with being around for such noise and inconvenience. ROOOOOAD TRIIIP? Igh I wish I drove.