…right now the sky is cryin’ and I feel like drowning in my own tears… if only I could burn the picture of you…at the crossroads… been your whipping post too long, gonna run to the hills before the sandman enters….maybe join a chain gang ‘cuz nobody, nobody loves me like my mother..so many miles to go before I sleep…hell, let’s give them something to talk about but you know – she’s already made up her mind…I’ve been out walkin’, I don’t do that much talkin, these days….
It’s later than it’s supposed to be. I mean, I started this post almost 3 (now 4) hours ago when the sun should have risen but it couldn’t. Heavy clouds filled with Noah’s flood waters let loose with a ferocity that felt oddly comfortable today. The color of early morning, complete with appropriate rain/wind sound effect(s) was the perfect accompaniment for morning coffee. But alas….there was a runaway child, running wild… as it were and well, the interruption came crashing onto my creative shores. “Say, they don’t make “go away and let me be” in a spray can do they?”
(“It’s even later now. Hope I don’t die before trying to complete this mess”) Don’t ask me why Stevie Ray had come to mind. Maybe it was the weather (no, there will be no puns today) and then snippets of lyrics came to mind from timelines come and gone – bad, somewhere, nowhere, ever present. But here’s what’s different than what you all expect (Glenn). This morning’s little postus interruptus is not indulgance in lost emotion from days of future past (passed?). No, what this is, is simply an exercise. I’m all about that lately.
Since I am accepting of the fact I have lost the original creative thread of this post, I might as well stumble on. Long have I had the thought to knit?, sew? macrame?, glue?? .. wait .., weave! an autobiographical chronical with absolutely nothing more than song lyrics. (“that and a post from hell done entirely with music vids. how original. a digital version of the mix tape. to my own damn self”) Shit! Where’s that… crazy train…. you got a motor like a brand new car, so start it up for me….
Over on the FB or “the Book” (as the clark would say), is one Seven Ravens, known affectionately at the Wakefield Doctrine as Molly M. She is a clarklike female after my own heart as they say because she is metal chick extrordinaire. What makes her so is her almost? devotion to some of the very same metal gods as yours truly kneels before. “So what? So what?!”
Here’s what – the unique attachment that clarks make to music, their “storyboard” if you will. Sure, everyone else, the scotts and rogers out there do this thing as well. The difference with clarks, and maybe it’s just we of the female persuasion (what? there’s a persuasion around? really? whadya mean no acappella today?!), is the bonding /infusing emotion to a particular moment of a particular event, day, interaction, etc. with the music/song de jour which then permanently bonds itself to particular timelines thereby creating an amazingly reciprocitous relationship that lays the foundation of the tool with which to build the perfect escape/indulgance. (“Yes, Glenn, “mood music. I could have just said, a clark’s mood music is more personally intense, since clarks internalize more than scotts and rogers”)
Here’s a disappointing fact: today is Wednesday. Not Monday. Late by 3 or 4 hours isn’t so bad – on the same day. Late by 48 plus hours?! What say JB?… the words had all been spoken but somehow the feeling still wasn’t right and still
we I continued on through the night (and days) tracing our my steps from the beginning until they vanished into the air…
Apologies to the Brothers for not using their rendition….