March 29 2022
We could slow dance to rock music
Kiss while we do it
Talk till we both turn blue
Baby, if you wanna leave
Come to California, be a freak like me, too
Lana makes music for aching-hearted beautiful people. Heart broken?How? Us? No. Just those with heavy hearts and poetic souls. Xavier feels this! Words fail to do it justice. So it goes with these types of things.
I turned 24 yesterday.
I’m not a birthday person. But as a gift, to me from you, I challenge you to go into the world and embarrass yourself: Do something that will make you realize how much you worry about the opinion of others: Growl at the bartender. Wear two different brands of shoes. Carve a Swastika into your forearm with a butter knife while the Waffle House waitress howls with primordial fear!
Birthdays, like I said, above, 5 sentences ago, incase you’re cognitively challenged and forgot already, are not my cup of tea. It’s always seemed like a pseudo-achievement celebrated in the absence of anything real to party about.
What are we gathered for? My surviving one my year here? For you to say this you must view death as a Loss. I don’t!
Weddings, graduations, baby showers. All fall into this category. What are we celebrating? The barrier to entry for these are non existent. Anyone can get married, anyone can get pregnant, everyone should be able to graduate (high school atleast) and if you can’t, and take that punch like a champ, you’re better than those having a ‘grad party’.
Low achievement! Average! I DON’T WANT YOU HAPPILY DISTRACTED! HATE ME IF YOU WANT! THIS FEELING, THIS HATE, THAT ANGER IS BETTER THAN YOU SMILING, HIGHLIGHTING YOUR TRIPLE CHIN AND CHEDDAR COLORED TEETH OVER A PIECE OF STORE BOUGHT VANILLA CAKE ON PLASTIC FORK IN COMMUNITY CENTER.
However! I, the Tragedy riddle character, all my life, regarding birthdays, do love when friends, family, lovers make a big deal about it.
I’m fine if they don’t, I’m thrilled if they do. And my friends are good about making a big deal about it. Girls, especially love this! Many girlfriends have gotten personally sad when I tell them I don’t want to make a big deal about it, or when they tell me happy birthday and in bout of vulnerable honesty I admit I didn’t even realize. They get upset at this! It’s pure. It keeps me Alive!
“I wish I was as free as Winston.”
Muttered by a friend, one of my longest and closest, unironically, at my birthday dinner. We were talking of speeding, running red lights, a complete disregard to the law, things of this nature that at this point, have been ‘over normalized’ by me (a failing member of society in regards to ‘the properly functioning world’) but to my friends come off as really problematic and detrimental to my future.
The reason I bring this up is because I’m not free.
How can a falling man jump?
I’m, on quick look, a slave to two things. Shackled, unable to shake them like parasites grabbed to my skin, sucking life out of me while I try and fail try and fail to rid myself of them.
1 anticipation
exciting, meaningful, inspiring, wild events to come in the near future. There is nothing that fills me with more dread than a bleak, monotonous-seeming upcoming week/month/year/life. I’m not free because a free man would not worry about the day after today, right? Wouldn’t he be blissfully present? This is not me. Apathy sinks into my being when there’s nothing I anticipate. Because of this, I’m a slave to chasing unorthodox, strangeness. Anything that saves me from the boring cold coffee and shit filled days. A slave to Hope.
2 the senses
(surroundings, people, views, sounds, vibrations, objective reality infront of my Body)
I wrote a whole book on this, making it obvious to me that this is something I’m not free from. At times I envy people that are the ‘same’ regardless the storm of the World going on around them. I am not this way. I have masks that seemingly get pulled down over my eyes by an invisible force, maybe a Trickster diety, when I find myself in any environment with heightened lightening, attitudes, music, colors, the list doesn’t end. Adaptibility (?) maybe. Like walking into a punk bar and Iggy Pop is playing vs walking into a coffee shop and Bon Iver is playing. Even if I’m in the exact same mood, same sleep duration, same plate of food beforehand, etc. even if everything else is constant, these differing environments grab me by the dick and pull me into a new mentality.
I don’t feel weighed down by either of these. No level of despair seeps in. If anything, noticing them has been a super power for me (Although it took years for this awareness to catch up with the experiencing: the actual cause and effect.)
But it’s saved my from getting a job, dating a lackluster girl, falling into some pattern that invites monotony, normal routine. And people are either attracted to this or repulsed by it. But we must remember, caskets aren’t built for two!
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There’s a disgusting incongruencey between paying bills and right after, creating art. Like being lit on fire, left alone to burn for 15 seconds, then being picked up and thrown into an arctic ice pool.
I suppose one must be ignored….
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Send something! did you embarrass yourself? Lean out your window and howl to the Moon tonight. Pray to God he enlarges your K9 teeth, lengthens, sharpens your nails, causes hair to grow all over, turns your eyes bright yellow…
prey to God, we are his nourishment.
Until next time
WINSTON
SOULED IDEA
THE RAMBLER
EAST COAST FREAK
