aka "New twists on old ramblings"
“It's gone on like this, for three years I guess.
We're drunk all the time, and our lives are a mess.”
-Mountain Goats
Grandparents drown in nostalgia, wondering where their heros went, while kids drown in drugs trying to keep up with their heroes. Dad is stranded in an ocean of debt, treading water, while mom dives and searches for the bottom after the sinking of their marital maritime vessel. Her lung compacity is astounding. She holds her breath and swims down and down. Down through Zoloft, through t.v., pop culture, debt, and her son. Always and forever downward. The son will be gone soon though. He has given up on money, pop culture, television, Zoloft, divorce, marriage, heros, parents, and grandparents. His faith remain in drugs, beer, sex, doomed relationships, and the friends that make it all possible.
Paint a rose on my nose and hand me my rightful crown. I'm the King of the Pits and I can't be usurped. Ruling over my kingdom of the disowned tar-eyed citizens with utter apathy, nothing will change. If it did we'd be refugees and somehow worse-off than before. How do you kill a hermit? Banish them to society.
While I'm at...
Grant me the slumber time contentment
that escapes me in the day
And the waking hour happiness
that we all deserve
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