(blend in ash)

My brain is fucking freebird high as hell on the solo that couldn't save ronnie but might bring back rock and roll from the brink of ironic extinction if we only canned the calling out every time a lull falls over the crowd and we, the jackass, feel the empowering need to be something like timeless or witty.

Or just fucking heard.

Personally, i don't much need it anymore. though my heart craves the benevolent attention of the world i've always wanted to save, i just don't really give two shit if there's a single soul out there in this pixelated land listening to me. turning my way. at least, not if i have to throw myself down a well to get a prick at their ears.

Shit, i can howl louder than the best of them. i can scream and shout until my throat closes up and my mind starts to die slow and lonely from the lack of oxygen and the veins pulsing in my neck as the once human sound i was making reduces itself into a promethean cry of overwhelming despair worth it's weight on my struggle for all the good it might do if it finds the right person at the right time and they know just why it is i'm still standing here.

And they give a fuck.

If they can.

Don't get me wrong, i'm not copping along the ranks of the misunderstood. i know well the capacity for human understanding and long ago gave up the pipe bomb dream of being enigmatic. fuck it. i'm just a man. a pasty, sleepless man with all the right inentions (or enough to get me by with some part of my karma in tact) and all the wrong distractions.

All i'm trying to do is find an appropriate action.

Maybe one day i will and i'll shake the core of heaven. maybe i'll die a failure attached to nothing but regret.

Either way i'll keep on yelling. i'll keep on tapping. i'll keep on banging my head and smoking my cigarettes in the hope that one day i finally do fucking get it and can muster the balls to burn this whole big motherfucker down.

It's worth a shot anyway.

I mean really, what the fuck did you do today?