one day i will wake up to myself - and wonder how i got to this place - sitting at a football game - nervous, a twenty nine year old man - mustache, side burns, leather jacket - toying with the three rings i wear on three of my fingers - one was given to me from my girlfriend, one is a wedding ring, the other is a bottle opener - my three loves - i'll wake up to myself and ask, did i really get married? - do i really hold a job? - did i really live alone in a small shit hole unit for three years? - did i really go hiking in greenland? - was i really drunk and alone on the streets of reykjavik talking to an icelandic man about the darknesses of depression? - i wake up everyday, but one day i'll realise what ive really done with my life - how old will i be when i die? - sure, i haven't done it all - sure, i've belted plenty of missed opportunities and drowned talents - but i've walked the earth sonny jim - i've made my commitments - i've been friendly, i've been mean, but i've dished it out evenly - maybe i'll wake up to myself, and realise my life, on my death bed, on the day i die - it'll all make sense and i'll drift warmly into death - i'll flash through my life and for a micro-micro-micro-second i'll see myself sitting at the football ground, thinking about my one day of realisation - and remember that one day i caught a glimpse of the pin-prick-realised-real-world-truth - im sitting here at the football, surrounded by seventy-five thousand people, only now understanding that ive been in a twelve year relationship and gotten married but before that seen my team win from forty two points behind, become friends with my best friends, work graveyard shifts at petrol stations, made short films, written words, studied and passed and thought i was dumber than i wasn't and realised education is a seed and grows and younglings one day and depending on what planet you're planted on, you grow as such - i grew strangely, but so what? - i travelled alone, leaving behind the best girl on earth, trusting the synchranised touch we share with the universe that, of course, shit, we'll be back together - i seen the homeland - i traveled the buses - i slept on them, for nine-teen hours, at least - i walked the streets and i drank at the bars and i touch the grave of jack kerouac and left a carlton draught bottle cap there and allowed myself visions - i spent two months in mexico bitch! two months in mexico alone, moving down the highways so much i was miserable when it was time to fly homeward bound - heartbreaking more hearts stopping off in japan - i better warn you man, i have no money! - it didn't matter - and then what? - a fucking job? - yeah - a cool little unit of madness swallowed for three years - iceland, greenland - yeah, so what? - ive felt the ash of icelandic shut-down-volcanos fall on my face, but i had the waterfall to wash it off - i've spoilt all your great scenic holiday photos by going to greenland and hitchhiking in greenland, in the back of a ute, over streams of icy old water - my pure happiness - india fucked me, but it was consensual - bhutan sunk me, but i crossed my fingers - nepal, crowded with too many europeans with goatee beards stacked with "gear" - (london), berlin, death camps, and my football team - where to from here? should i save myself? should i plunge? - how will i be remembered by so many people who don't understand? - ive learnt not to care so much - the trick of life is to learn to carry on, to push on, and shrug your shoulders when you have to - and that really, you can't do anything wrong - because really, says who?
Simon-
ReplyDeleteThis is BrokentoysAndHeros from Kilbeys blog. I'm responding to ur response to my comment about Steven's socks. It was s joke, that's it. I live in Chicago and what's odd about socks and shoes is they have a different sock height for every shoe u own so as to 'hide' the sock or its color. For some strange rule of foot fashion, socks are acceptable as long as they are displayed as themselves or hidden under the shoe, at ankle height. The reason I'm responding directly to ur blog, which I find to b very fascinating and I need to find some time to read some more, I like ur wit and realism, is that SK has had some moments over the years when indirect dialogue not concerning him (now how big is the melon anchored on top of his shoulders???) ...he pouts and plays the 'MY BLOG- GET UR OWN !!! CRAP' ...that makes many of us who communicate outside of his world....laugh. Oh, to b the center of attention...must we b ....all the friggin time. As u well know, because ur writing indicates higher intelligence - don't put ur self and ur life on display if u cannot follow the rules...and those are quite simple, once u drop ur pants and expose ur self - all bets are off and what follows actually is if ur own doing. So, I was actually poking fun at him, he should wear the damn shirt I sent him a month ago for a better fashion statement.
But anyways, this is a solid blog u have here. I really wish more people would read and comment because u have excellent insight, u pretty well traveled, u seem to enjoy life with a dark hint if skepticism. And GRAND luck to u in all ur endeavors.
Darrin JK
DJKLAK5212000@AOL.COM
No need to reply to me unless u believe in the lost art of 'penpals' , I still have couple original ones forged from long boring days in Elementary school in the mid 70's....