Sometimes I fall into a vicious cycle where I’m mentally and emotionally frustrated and cannot manage to channel that energy into productive avenues. In the old days, this would lead to drinking or drugs, but I don’t do that anymore. Instead, I try to go about my day, generally fail to complete mundane tasks and end up feeling ‘stuck’ – this progresses into a cycle of mild depression, feelings of inertia, guilt over said inertia, and then on and on it goes until something snaps me out of it.
It feels like I’m seated in a car stuck in neutral yet compelled to rev the engine until it screams.
When did I last curl up in her lap? It’s been so long, I cannot recall. Despite numbered boxcars on the calendar and the disinterested faces of clocks, a concrete memory eludes me. Time, location, and date, they’re merely three dimensions after all.
That number, it could be a trinity – secure, owned, loved.
Instead, it feels abstract.
Feeling a tad nostalgic this evening and found The Cult meandering down memory lane. I’ve always loved this song in equal proportion to all the hedonistic acts that took place while listening to this tune – privately, in night clubs, and two live performances. Unsurpisingly, The best memories were made behind closed doors.
Well, most of them. Because then I found this video and remembered Bike Week, 1995. It was a ‘working vacation’ for yours truly, but that never stopped me from having a good time. Bike Week was always crazy, probably still is, but 95 was the most insane trips to Daytona I ever made.
Lucky lucky Jermaine…I might change my name…lol.
Lol!
Actually, I’ll do you one better. I just now thought this up, so it’s a bit rough, but I hope you’ll still like it.
There once was a little sub, John
Who wanted to be beaten on
I’d punch and I’d hit
Cover his face in spit
From sunset til long after dawn
Limericks….hmmm
There was a thing upon the ground
That most people walked around
But Jen slapped its face
So that it learned its place
And took its beatings without a sound.
Well, these are a strange genre of poems….and I do not usually like them. But, I have to say that I like the one you wrote….because you took the trouble to write it….and it has my actual name in it…..And yes, I do believe you would do that….most kind, most kind! I send kisses to your feet….
And I do not have to change my name either…..now the lucky one is me….