Speechless.

Home sweet home.

-Motley Crue.

Bound by wild desire,I fell into your ring of fire.

-J.Cash.

I have my freedom but I don’t have much time.

-The Rolling Stones.

So I will write instead.

I have been chatting to the dogs on and off all day in between massive bouts of running and beating my punching bag like it fucked my mum and stole my TV.I swore that once I had the place to myself that I would be steel when it came to getting my corpse where I want it….I got it to where I wanted it on Tuesday night though…I got it all the way to the stage of The Whiskey in Hollywood.

I shake like a fault line in waiting just thinking about it

You know,as I was flying along the tow path today I kept thinking of sitting here and what I would tell you and how. Like all perverts I think that I will go backwards….and sideways….

I waved as she pulled away.My magnificent roommate Leizel,on here way to a well earned rest in Hawaii…all of us with some kind of post traumatic stress disorder…The house thrumming silently behind me,the 1st day dying that I didn’t run since I got home to Long Beach almost a whole month ago,my body full of codeine,PMS and pain.both from holding back everything so I could get the job done and from the brute physicality that I expended through the pure joy of being unleashed on a stage again after almost a year and a half.

The cats winding their soft slutty loops around my battered shins,I cooed gentle and they slunk through the door.I lolled and locked it behind me,leaning on it I slid to the floor and finally sobbed my stupid fucking heart out.

I have got survivors guilt like you would not believe.

Like my beloved Gatsby I too will beat on….

( Pre-Tuesday….)

I never liked band  practice before, but here and with this band? I couldn’t wait.Fear Factory kindly lent us their jam space, so every day we would cross over.Day shift, all boy sweat and D&D song titles that I would gleefully pay out passing the twilight baton onto the 6 titted carnage machine in vintage tee shirts and obscene skirts that is the frontline of Meldrum.Daddy-O already upstairs having pulled yet another heroic double shift behind the kit.

 Byron, Dino and Burton grinning as we fall out of the car like a metal version of Josie and the pussycats."You got a roadie for the show Michele?" said Burton re-wrapping a bandanna round his wrist like a bandage while the girls talked to Byron,the sun swallow diving into the LA skyline,magnolia leaves stuck on the soft top of the jeep,Me all colt legs and wolf grin."I guess I do now." replies yours truly blushing an odd shade of  pink….

He was late so I fired him.

( Tuesday…early…)

And there’s Byron stage managing everyone,I gotta go and hide out backstage so I don’t talk, Big gray beanie and my fucked up Aerosmith shirt, Raquel is here! Messaging me from the front of the club! I run through the door like someone lit my feet on fire and my ass was catching right into her arms,She cackles and says I got a butt like a 12 year old boy while she goes for another handful, BL Dave majestic by the door,Tulsa teching for Freida,Laura calling me "Kiddo"and ready to shread,new members of Mondo Generator! Hey Hoss, Heya Michael, good to make your acquaintance…

Nick txtíng me, calling me a badass making me smile instead of stress,Rocky George with the sweetest smile just going where its taking him,Daddy ripping into the drums for " Institutionalized" as we finish " Äce of spades"

("ÄLL I WANTED WAS A PEPSI!!!!!)

Me grinning so hard that you would think that the top of my head is about to blow off, Jason Mc Masters smiling at me from behind his bass and off we go into "Rock and Roll outlaw" by my beloved Rose Tattoo.I do my sneaky snakey dance over to Nick as he plays the rhythm guitar parts as sweetly as two drunk angels fucking on moonshine.Gene up behind that huge kit swinging deadly and precise as the executioners blade and I am home

I stole the running sheet off the wall backstage when no one was looking.I know that it was me….I know that it was my band but I need proof.

Next time you see me ask me what’s behind the picture of Iggy Pop that I carry in my wallet gatefold .I will remove it from my back pocket,open the plastic slip reverently and smile at the look of confusion that crosses your face as you gaze down at the coiled woolly fibers, the bits of carpet that I pried ever fleet fingered and sneaky from the sacred stage during a lull during sound check……

Proof.

Mondo on now and me hanging off the front of the stage, swimming through a sonic tsunami leaving me a castaway on the island of cool…"Shawnette"…and a sly smile at my sweaty ass when he sings the tourettes line…I laugh myself stupid…Raffles being drawn by DJ Will and Leah,money being raised for Jake,so many friends and family that I have not seen since the funeral so I go and hide cause I cant fall apart not yet….

( our set….)

I take to the stage after Moa has sung a few of the old songs.She is green eyed perfection.There are no "Former " members of this band. Not now.Not ever….

She howls my name "MADDDDEEEEENNNNN!!!!!" and I smile as I walk down the stairs and pick up the mike.Heart a humming bird…so ready…I bring it up to my mouth and face a bewilderingly bright lit crowd cause we are filming all night bay-bee so that one day Jake Thomas can see how much is angel Mama was loved and respected by some of the finest…

Faces turned up to me and I open my mouth and sing….

"And I will say the only words I know that you’ll understand…My Michelle…."

And there you have it, the beginning of my new life,

M

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