Random

The beer flows through my veins as I re-read past written words and think "hey, that's pretty good", after being reminded those same words were also written while the beer flowed. I take a swig from the green bottle and feel the sleep creep nearer and the needed oblivion for the five hours I get per twenty four.

My iTunes plays "House of the Rising Sun" over and over again. It's the version by the Animals and no other since no other version can capture the rawness of depravity that man's voice did in his broken wail. The song requires drinking. It demands it and so I comply.

The Muse is thirsty this night even as she is restless. There is something to be said and no words to say it. They haven't been born yet and so we must play the waiting game of fathers from 1950's televsion shows in the waiting rooms of maternity wards, while their wives endure silent and unseen labor, sanitized for your protection.

I go into a trance and see the static of a television station who's broadcast day has ended. Even the gods have gotten lazy.

Time to shift songs. Find something happy, find something sad. Find something angry, find something bad.

It's all to feel. To become a vampire and live off the emotions of others, digest it, draw my own blood and pen my fortune with it.

Heavy metal thumps. Old men, once young, tell me how angry they still are at the world and the "man". They deceptively make my heart beat faster and muscles to twitch, as if a mere theme song played on CNN is enough to justify a war.

This keyboard feels good to my fingers. It's slippery. It makes them move faster.