recreational vanity

call it quits till you reconcile the fertility that once let you call up the same lonliness you now disdain. "can i get a large pepperoni and a medium bullet to the brain?' i can't even begin to let into my brain how much i hate these hands that ask for more. the recklessness of the undeserving eats away. but its allowed. its totally allowed. who am i to be able to pick and choose. i'm half awake, i'm half asleep, and i can't find a slurpee machine for the life of me. could i grace you with the inexplicable sense of dryness i feel when i close my eyes these days? that stretched feeling you get from sleeping little and flying lots. i think my biggest problem as of late has been my lack of release. i lost my little black guitar. maybe its hiding in the barn somewhere. i miss that guitar. thats where brave new world, what smiles can't afford, even sugar free came from. it sucks the cats ass. but its dear. i shall find it. i shall go exploring. i'll make due. i've heard a lack of literary reflection will clog your brain with desolation. and that lingering taste of ignorance i get on the tip of my tongue when i strum a few chords and try to make myself happy has been much more prominant also as of late. if i could i would take this hideous stigma, tie it up and throw it in the river. maybe i'll make a sail for it. watch it float down the fraser, with liberty and a sense of pride. if i could spell out catastrophe with 4 letters they would read 'pride'. sorry, 5 letters. sue me. i cling to humility with all i have. i figured out that picking your nose in public is probably the best way ever to remain humble. it works. and boy can i sure breathe easier these days. i'm walking into a world, of the worst possible circumstances. the one industry that can single handedly take the very values you trust. and beat them into a vicious, rabid, shameful mass of unrespected human. it seems as if my fingers crave strings and keys and sound. i miss standing on stage. standing in front of the guys again last week was so very liberating. i missed that more than anything. the opportunity is there for us to take. the chance of a lifetime warming our fingertips and ears. my mind is calligraphy and seems to never pass the spell check. i wonder from time to time what will become of me. what will become of my dreams and my abilities. could it ever be possible for me to be given an opporunity to actually accomplish what i was born to do, or would disney quite possibly give me the short end of the dream stick. would i ever forsake the grounds of which we all strive to accomplish. maybe i want to experience freedom of the ocean that kisses your feet and the breeze that whispers goodnight in my ear. maybe i want to climb the highest mountain and forsake the limitations mankind has set infront of themselves. but once its finished. when its all said and done. what am i fighting for. one hundred years from now, what will my efforts have been worth. when one begins to question their existence and purpose they learn a few things. lesson number one. your not as tall as you think you are. there alot more people in this world that have accomplished alot more meaningful, difficult tasks then you could ever handle. so before you crown yourself worthy, realize something. your a percentage and a number. its truly a beautiful thing. its really humbling. its kinda like life pulling out the chair from under you and then pointing and laughing and labelling you 'medium-sexy'. lesson number two. under half of what you strive for in the average 24 hour day is worth your bloody time. until you can establish FOR YOURSELF, not what your parents have established, not what a book or tow has established, but once you, for yourself, have justified a reason for blinking, you can accept the vanity and the necessity alot more gracefully. this wide eyed boy sings alot better than this professional nobody. this wide eyed world, cries alot harder than professional sinners. we'll never again have last night. we'll never again taste today's lunch. call me what you need to call me, i'm stuck in my own head and i'm laughing at you through my own eyelids. i miss you kind self. i miss our talks. i miss your insolence and i miss your sincerity. i miss the ability to close my eyes and let you take over. to let you create. without the aided presence of my pathetic pre-judgement. maybe i need a vacation. maybe i need a beer. maybe i need to go hit some golf balls. maybe i'll go egg ryan's house. how ironic. regardless. i need to rediscover what i came here for. the copasetic redundance is what makes me forget what i came here to do. the perfect repetativeness of my busy days is what clouds my creativity like the devilish fog. i miss your songs. dear brain. if i had it my way, i'd paint you on the inside of my lids and sleep forever.

"recreational vanity."