All right imaginary audience, those of you who read my blogs with any regularity realize I rarely wax auto-biographical but I'm breaking that rule this time.
I live in San Diego California. Beautiful place, if you like that kind of stuff. I've always felt that the only thing that's stopping me from packing up all my stuff, strapping my guitar to my back and catching the first bus to New York is a dose of superior common sense.
I've taken enough college courses to have realized that money can always be earned, if you're willing and able, but your reason for being, well, that's more of a matter of courage and heart... How easy would it be to empty my bank account tomorrow, and find a slum in Soho, or in the East Village where I could seclude myself for a bit, become a hermit of sorts, rugged beard and all, and finish my book, which at the rate I'm writing, should be finished sometime around the Fall of 2097. (Look out for it, it will be the shit!)
Too easy almost. I toy with the idea everyday..
Yet I digress from my main point. After all, the title of this blog is titled after Taking Back Sunday, a funny little band I was fortunate to see live a few days ago. Now I've been to tons of concerts, and seen TBS twice before but few shows have had the extraordinary vigor and imagination that this one captured.
Lead singer Adam Lazzara, in all his flailing, spastic glory, would've ripped out his heart, just to hear the roar of approval. Never missing a beat, he twirled his microphone by the cord, tossing it into the air, falling over backwards in exaggerated tortured angst, only to catch it in mid air, screaming words of love and lost. Clichéd? Perhaps. But we all knew the words, so we sang along. We laugh because we feel silly, but with 10,000 people singing along to "Make Damn Sure" the goosebumps take on a whole other meaning.
This from a rugged, concert veteran. "You can be anything you want to be! Fuck the war!" Adam screamed once between songs, to deafening madness. And afterwards, leaving the venue, looking into the starry, dazed eyes of kids, some young enough to have this been their first concert, I truly think they believed him.
You can be anything you want to be. Fuck the war.
And this one moment, this loud glorious night, tops any previous one in their young lives, for now. How nice to be that young and naive. Outside of hope and rockstars, there's a world filled with anger and regret. World War 3, Great Depression 2 and a president that answers to no "man", except for the one he hears in his head. But let's leave God out of it, shall we Mr. Bush? All of it. Your God is one with whom I am not familiar, and I'd prefer to keep it that way.
Just for a moment, I allow myself to forget it all, my eyes smile along with theirs. Maybe, just maybe.. its gonna be alright.
But then again you might ask, why title this blog after a rock band, and what the hell is my point? The simple answer? I can do what I'd like, this is my blog beeotch. Got a problem? Tell it to my AK, clack clack clack!
Seriously now, the long answer, is simple. In a world gone to pot, we should never be too jaded to be starry eyed like a kid after a concert. Everything you do, do it with passion, do it with heart, even if its seems insane, get up there and pour your blood, sweat and tears on that proverbial "stage", whatever it may be to you. And just when you think you're done, we'll scream for an encore.
~
"Here's to the Crazy Ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing that you can't do, is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward.While some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do."
"Here's to the Crazy Ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, disbelieve them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing that you can't do, is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward.While some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do."
2 comments:
"..and everything seemed warm and
comfortable then in
1930
because I didn't know
that there was a worldwide
depression
and that madness and sorrow and fear were
almost everywhere."
Nana
she has fucked 200 men in ten
states.
5 have committed suicide
3 have gone entirely mad.
every time she moves to a new city
10 men follow her.
now she sits on my couch
in a short blue dress
and she seems
quite healthy and chipper
even looks innocent.
"I lose interest in a man,"
she says,
"as soon as he begins to care for
me."
I refill her drink
as she pulls her dress up,
shows me her black panties.
"don't these look sexy?" she asks.
I tell her that they do look sexy.
she gets up, walks across the room
through my bedroom and into the bathroom.
soon I hear the toilet flush.
her name is Nana and she has been living on
earth for the past
5,000 years.
I never thanked you for introducing me to Bukowski. I read one of his books and fell completely in love with that bastard. For the rest of my life I'll have you to thank, even if I forget your name, which I undoubtedly will. Even if I stop reading your blog, which I probably will (sorry =/ ). Even if we never meet, which I'm almost positive we won't, despite the fact that we live in the same state.
Even though, thank you.
-jmrazimposter
this is so beautiful..... And i so agree!!
I hope you finish your book soon..ill look for it. :)
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