Carry On
It is Monday March 16, and it is officially one year since I started this blog (Hooray (for me)) with a post called Rainy Days and Sundays, which looking back I’m not sure what that was about, other than at that time I was reading a funny book by Jerry Stahl about the holocaust (yeah. Don’t judge me or him) and trying to be romantic and funny, and it was a rainy Sunday, but I was trying to reference a certain Karen Carpenter song.
Are you already thinking, is this going to be long? (Maybe).
Because “I’ve been thinking too much” (twenty one pilots).
About writing, and about my place in this world (and this trailer park. Got the trailer park blues), and why I practice this art that I’m not sure anybody reads (while you’re here you should browse our great selection!). Yeah, I just have that much integrity (maybe just the “grit” part). Sure.
At Rehab we had to dissect the song Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine. I’m not sure what that was about (my own dog days were certainly not over), but we spent fifty minutes going over the lyrics before we were let outside to smoke. It was weird and awkward. I think they just made up shit lessons as they went over there. Pretty sure (low budget). Like I said before, that place didn’t get me sober, just gave me a big binder and a complex about using, and oddly I hope that complex keeps me sober for the rest of my life.
Sometimes that silly song pops up in my you tube feed, and I like to think I know exactly what it means now. Some tunes just grab me, like the Barbie Girl Song, fun and innocent, and I get wrapped up in it like a romantic tryst, and I quickly realize I am stupid and making too much out of nothing, just an arrangement of vibrations and thus feelings. I am like that. I’m a weenie in a crescent roll. It will always be The Rehab Song to me.
I like to think of this blog as my Song of Myself, Walt Whitman style.
If you keep reading (whoever you are!), I’ll keep writing.
I was going to spend the rest of this post explaining the art, but I don’t think I will. It speaks for itself. I’m happy.
On the subject of jobs (that I don’t have): I applied at Daytona State College for a paralegal course. Fingers crossed.
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