Oh it’s still dark green October out. Better go back inside, better get ready for some doom. Better do better tomorrow. No wait. Shut up. Enough of that. Everything has a little distortion on it in October.
But man it gets loud in here. It gets scary in here. Heart beat speeds up. Hope I don’t pass out. Hope I don’t black out. Hope this helium in my head is just in my head. Hope this bridge isn’t just a ramp into the horizon. Hope everything’s ok with you.
Panic starts and stops uninterrupted at any part in the day. Tumors and thick bloods running and getting stuck on vitals and other sugary conditions as of yet undiscovered in medical glossaries.
Sorry dad, these are some dark songs, but these are dark times traced in neon lights. Uninterrupted, please. No more arguments, please. We’ve been through this before.
This is out of our depth. Throw rocks until all the windows are broken but they’ll just fix them tomorrow. No one will know. No one will care. A hundred years until tomorrow anyway.
Sorry but I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be doing anymore, anyway. Confusion and disgust and indifference all get blurry and instead of putting on your deciphering glasses let’s just sum it up with a big shrug.
Hopefully the roof stays put. Hopefully the car starts. Hopefully the water runs and the power is on. Hopefully it’s never anything serious. Hopefully the phone doesn’t ring.
Study hall day dreams about scraping by; doing things you’re not sure you have any business doing. You’ll be the exception. Everyone else will get by. Everyone else will make it look easy but tell you that it’s really not. Everyone else will get over it.
But it’s dark, October, cold breeze anchors, crayon-drawn trees, miserable uncertain ghosts; dress it up in orange and black, get it drunk, tell it everything will be ok and then send it off to bed and hope for a flash of optimism in the morning. . Maybe it won’t be so dark anymore.