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the old excuse maker…

can’t say ‘no’… indecision abounds, and I can’t clear the ol’ noggin, friends… gaps in time lead me to be less than fruitful, and I can’t help but classify myself in these retarded constraints, even when I know I am not that terrible… Just uncomfortably lazy… Dulled wasted years, the sentiment gone from those peaceful words, and suddenly the strike is fading away… Colder than what may have at first been there… the distant smiles fade, too… Dazed and contradictory, they all dance in a swarm… What will tomorrow bring?… Of that I am not too certain… Mirth and excitement, perhaps, just for awhile longer than expected… the trick is to stay solid, and remember where you are always and at all times… To let the mind drift at the most inopportune time can be hazardous, and spill all the stacked odds in one’s favor… Where is it that we might begin Here?… to spill the blood, or drain the love, from the situation at hand?… A quandary it becomes for all those involved, the answer swaying just short of reach, and something compels that leap of faith inside… to take the dive… That was where I failed that last concert day, when the drinks and empty stomachs and misunderstood stances were taken too literally by yours truly, and I failed to handle the new terrain as easily as the old… Expectations were muddled on my part over possible harassment issues, but that never came to be that realized thing to block our progress… the dirty old fools were not in the same place twice… the energies switched polarity at some point, and the night was a lusty grind to the hotel room for lingering chat, from club to flat… It was good to meet someone genuine for once in the desert cesspool of dry human brains… the social dilemma strained through a million porous personalities… no pictures drawn just to clue one in, the abstraction you have is the key, and it unlocks many more doors than the physical world allows… ta-kill-ya can make the evening exciting indeed, and you can’t keep it all inside… stalking rippers reaping ground, running watching wondering why, deforms the systems to sanitize, the dirt thrown on the flames to burn the signs… swirling flies over that fecal stench the monkeys’ have thrown over Here, resound of schizophrenic surprise, flush in the face with adverse sage advice… goodbye…
Thanks, khet.