A brief Honesty.

The west is the best.Get here and we’ll do the rest.

-The Doors.

When the routine bites hard.

-The joy division.

Ok

This is where the honesty comes into play.

I started this tonight really fuckin angry. Mega steamed. Got a letter that pissed me off so I did my usual…I twisted some words into a bitter garland and I festooned the opening paragraph with it accordingly. It was not one of my best but it got the job done. In fact it did it so well that I chose to erase it.

Why?

“Its not editing.” I tell myself.

I am not down with that at all.What it was that in the face of all that is bold ,fresh and new that I am rolling with right now, it was the stomping on a Pavlovian instinct.One that I, being the head-shy dog that I am , am always quick to pounce upon.

Bravo me.The bell rang and you didn’t get the reaction you expected. ….

(“By Fuck!” Trilled Dr Madden “I do believe she’s got it!”)

You know the deal. Do what you have always done and get what you have always got.

I want more than that. In fact I want all of it.

So enough. You shall get no more….

What a sweet and unexpected satori.

Or as my most beloved and revered Miss Karen would say “Nyeh.”

Michelle has been out all day so I have been left to my own somewhat cramped company.Its close to midnight now so I hope that she is ok. Been writing a bit today. More an exercise in discipline than anything earth shattering but you never can tell until you walk away for a spell. It needs to ripen up.

Just survived a bout of food poisoning. My hip bones are standing out like beacons in a taut flesh ocean.So the 2 days spent on the floor/crapper were all worth it it my shallow eyes. I have been re-visiting places inside that I shouldn’t. Re-reading my journals and sucking on illicit longing like a baby on a whisky soaked rusk.

( As I followed you up those midnight stairs I know that nothing would ever feel as real, perfect or dirty to me ever again.)

Where do you go after tasting perfection but down? This I ask of you tonight. Not that I will get an answer…I have been thinking about leaving these pages open to comment but it all smacks of ego stroking and myspace instant gratification and so on.I know that its being read and that’s that right? More often than not this is for myself alone.Running is the cheapest therapy I know but as one cannot pound the pavement 24 hours a day…And this is the tasty non hamstring injuring literary equivalent?. Charmed, I’m sure.

I am doing fine.Saint Michele of the million lists and what not. Better than I thought that I would be at this point in my some what hormone and Stooges fueled development. What can I tell you? No one is really in touch with me right now. In my exile I assume that it is due to equal parts shock and bitterness? Ah, but what do I know of others inner workings? and, as we all know, it is frightfully rude to assume yet that never seems to stop other people now does it.?

Beloved big brother tells me that my postcard arrived today and that made me smile even through tearing gut cramps.I enquired of Miss Karen if she had received a missive from my rockin ass but alas not. She reckons that the postman in Cairns tends to pick his own hours.I would too if I dwelt in paradise.

Postcards are right up there on my eternal super fucking important list. Call me a geek, I can take it but I am not messing about here. I am not kidding. The written and I mean REALLY written word sends my heart a flutter. I mean, email? Its a given …but knowing that some one took the time,with YOU in their heart and tattered-address book …oh man! That’s what its about.The hands that got it all the way to you,the journey that it took….Postmarked and proud over the sea…I love that shit!

I think that I still have everything that has ever been sent to me.One of my biggest regrets was burning old love letters.Foolish girl.I don’t think that anyone gets enough love letters in their life to be caviler enough to turn them to ashes. Ah ! youth! Wasted on the young as Oscar Wilde would say.

So I guess tonight I am about longing. For the 1st time in my career *snort* I am writing on my feet. Meaning that I am going through my lyrics and my psyche at full throttle while the meter is running every day and that lands me in the lap of my subjects. Very confronting to say the least!

When it comes to my writing ,well, song wise, I tend to drift back to the same sources of inspiration over and over and being that they are so familiar and patient with my sniveling self they tend to offer up something new with supreme grace every time I pay them a visit.

Be it about killing some one or an ode to something that I love ( I just realized they are the same!) it can tend to get my hot pink Hello Kitty soft center, I dunno , Aching? Well, sure for want of a better word….see,What the day tripper tends not to see in my music is that I roll heavy on love-songs. I mean,I know that I can be obtuse at times but its all there if you know where to look.

And I know where all the bodies are buried….

All the “revenge” songs all the “I am gonna kick you ass ” songs…its all stuff that I love. I love the battle and the killing floor and unbeknownst to them, I love my muses. Wildly, passionately and above all privately. Except for when I am singing my ring out about then and even then….They have held steady for years now.I have written about the same people over and over hoping somehow that they would know because I could never say.Rejection is not such a good color on me.

I don’t think that its such a crash hot hue on any of us really. I am waffling on as I am prone to when my life is in a state of flux.

To match my gut. I think that is quite enough from me this evening. The heart is a wound and at present mine is wide open….

M

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