What are we, I wonder? Are we the slaves of tomorrow or the generation of democracy and hope and tolerance and all that is good in the world? Or are we just complete and total bullshit? Are we anything that is worth anything. Are we? No, I will not answer that. Because I don’t know the answer to that. Because if you have not yet seen it, there is no “we” in this story. It’s just me, all alone.
History has not been too kind to me. History never took me into its warm hands and sang me any songs. History never told me that it was going to be ok. I come from desolation, I come from pain, I come disappointed parents and friends who would advantage of me. I come from half smoked cigarettes and the dreams of a beautiful tomorrow.
No, don’t you dare. I am not crying. I am not even sad. Frankly, I don’t even care. I am recanting, I am remembering. I am singing my song and you are listening to the magic and the beauty in it. This is a rant, a chaotic rant and this is not about the beauty in the world. This is about the magic in the song, just that. The magic in my song.
You and me, we have never known each other, or maybe we have. It doesn’t matter. And even if we have, we really haven’t. Which is why this is important. I believe that you can be really truthful to only those who know you too well and those who don’t know you at all. I have always been idiotically proud of the fact that there is no human soul who would fit into the first category. So, all of you, welcome to the second. I will not lie. The magic is mine, only mine and it may be so that only I may be able to see it. But whatever.
My tragedy is the countless nights that have gone by, that have been spent in front of an idea of something, something that does not exist, I would love to describe it to you, but I cant. I don’t know how to and frankly, its too damn horrific.
My last cigarette of the day was just finished and I don’t know what I am going to do. No I am not addicted. Never. I just want something that will stop the chaos in my head. So that I can rest. I can be at peace. I can be human.
Tomorrow will come. Yes. And the sun will shine again. It will be amazing and glorious. Light taking out the dark. Confusion gone. We should be able to see again. But, no, not for me. I have gone too far.
The beauty of the world does not comfort me anymore. My mind has been taken apart and I have forgotten the old songs. Now I am an old man in a youngish body. The light of the day doesn’t solve my problems like before. My soul is tired. Now there is confusion, oh so much. So much noise.
I beg of you, hug me, love me. I don’t need you, I don’t need a friend. I just need to be understood. Just comforted, to be told that there is hope yet. Even if it is in another time, another me. This is me. I am…
