A World For Atlas, A Marble For Me

"Do you want the moon Mary?" Everyone wants something off the top shelf. It gets pretty hard when they got their heel on your neck. I miss blue skies, Chicago is concrete grey and the bright snow has found a better place to winter. The Empty Bottle should be a good getaway tomorrow, with the fantastic Avi Drake on the drums.

Right now I'm zipped up tight in a business suit, waiting to get the chance to sell myself to some good for nothing schmuck with a mind for nothing but numbers. How am I going to explain that my worth is tied to the soil and rain, that I can't add to well, but I'm hell on wheels when it comes to guessing the right shape of cumulous clouds, or knowing the right time to use the term morose in contrast to melencholy. No, some things cannot be quantified, but I can't buy anything based on my good looks, or my estatic movements on the dance floor. So here I sit, thinking about the numbers, trying to wrap my head in formulas and statistics. Looking at my roommate like he was dead, thinking 80% water and the rest charcoal. Is that what this man is going to be viewing me like? 39,000 USD plus benefits? And me looking back at him knowing the numbers don't add up right either, but they never will.

Morgan thinks that I have another blog going. Perhaps I do, and it's filled with the most wonderful observations. It villifies myself and lays bare the stinking piece of flesh that I am. Who knows? I can't say everything here, but who's to say that I want to say anything more... Maybe I just want to rot in peace.

A Sign of More to Come

“This long time curse hurts, but what’s worse is this pain in here….” Another day as Cain, another day broken, another day as Fortune’s fool. Days like this cast a cold, gray shade upon life. Yesterday, I was content, confident, stiff upper lip proudly displayed for all to see, today I am little more than a shivering, huddled mass, with a distracted spirit and a defeated will. It takes a lot for a mortal man, but we adapt, and a subtle song can quickly become an anthem under the right circumstances. I was fired, and for purely distracted reasons. Justice must have let her bandana unfurl.