step outside into a charcoal drawing. it’s a familiar place you hated as a kid, but have metastasized a new found respect for once your back started aching on the reg.
hometowns are hell, until you’ve actually seen hell…and a sight like that can not be unseen. but upon viewing, home will transform into a paradise, your paradise, and local haunts will become exactly that. a place in which you would be happy to linger forever, trying your damnedest to escape that tunnel of light.
people very rarely last forever. the old must be old for a reason, and the good, as they say, die young in car crashes and chic drug overdoses. probably before they have the time to realize how much bad shit you can really get away with and still be considered ‘good’.
so what of the rest of us? the ones that hover and watch. witnesses. painfully mediocre. at peace with the world happening to us. not good, not bad, not old, not young…just in attendance. eh, it doesn’t matter.
because you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find you’re eligible for some sort of government assistance. or at the very least a half price app at your neighborhood greasy spoon…but its the little things people, that’s what i’m getting at.
you wont realize it now, in fact you probably won’t get it until its almost too late. but we all do get the wake up call. some of us lucky/unlucky bastards answer it just before the t.v. sizzles…(find someone you love, and make 'em love you damnit)…and we realize that in this world diseased with the celebration of stupidity, absurdity, and precious(paper)metal commercialism (these things, these motherfucking things, we’ll drown in things!) the only 'thing’ that really matters is an honest smile from someone who truly gives a shit about you totally, completely, and unconditionally.
but try using that smile to buy a fifth of vodka these days.
-2013 frnkiero.
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