Can you hear me? I can hear you. Scrolling through old blog posts trying to figure out witch one to re post......re post? Fuck re post. If they missed it then they missed it. We got it, even if they can't understand it. They are those who miss opportunities on purpose and then blame others for missing the bus. You see the world as I do, as I see it through your eyes as if I was you. You feel that....the bar in your hands? Completely in control of your own destiny? The future cant be told, for that you are blind, as I lay a thousand miles away wishing I knew mine. Medals can't be seen from under a turning fan......but doing what we love is ours.....as simplicity can fool the smartest of ones. The smell of chalk doesn't change, just like our love for the sport stays the same. Isn't it funny......that we are still here, as so many have walked out. Its been years now and the Orchestra still plays as this black stage salts our feet, as our pasts watches us from the back seats. Completely dark, besides the small light peeking in from the bottom of the old broken door that leads to wherever you walked in from. The lint from the dusty stage dances within the light, as the skeletons continue to make strings cry....as we still sit and watch with eyes of wide.
It's been over two years in this stage of black, you still sit with me in complete silence. Why? So much has happened on the outside, to both you and I. What keeps us visiting this place? Why do we love to listen to our skeletons play violins? Why so dark? Has anybody ever tried to turn on a light? This Orchestra sounds horrible from all the strings that have broke, and the salt that has rusted out the wood. Seats that creek and floors than moan. Cob webs that hang while dust claps after every showing. This place is a bloody mess, a disaster, a completely broken down piece of shit! Has anybody every tried to clean this solitude mistress up? "No......leave the fort alone and don't change a fucken thing. This is life, this is past, this is future, this is us, this is beautiful, this is art, this is bright, this is home, this is real, this is true, this is me, this is you...." Skeleton.
I sometimes forget to visit such a dark place when things in my life are going so right. My ignorance leaves me forgetting what has gotten me to this point. My past bad and wrong, dark and sorrowed songed......has not done me wrong, but has instead ended me up here, next to you listening to this song. PLAY ON SKELETONS PLAY ON! I yell from the stage, skeletons always hard to see for they play so far away. I don't know if my dad ever re-visits anymore.....that one time he did, his tears pushed him out the door. My success is due to this stage with you, accepting my past has brought me strength times two. Has time changed me from visiting the dark? I think not my friend because I am back again.....something is pushing me to write words through this salt filled pen. It's when I am the most happy I get the most down. I have hurt so many, and made so many mistakes, my head hangs low as I feel less than worthy. Faces of the past and feelings towards the future, at times leave me locked in my office for hours, as the door guards locked they from the outside. Fuck they, stay away. They will never understand us. Stay away good times, for sorrow is my guest. A podcast if upbeat usually means I'm heavy in my chest.
It's good to see you again my friend. Let the our past be our future......and our friendship become our strength. Salute to every skeleton who has stayed with this blog from the start, this is only the beginning to a new start.