Showing posts with label pounding down the pavement. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pounding down the pavement. Show all posts

Friday, May 20, 2011

the face on the milkcarton

oh poor little runaway
ridiculous with her unchanging dolls face
she thinks everyone is watching her
but she only sees herself

but maybe you've seen this face?
this torn up funny sign?
strewn about your least favorite cafes
restaurants
college bars

the post office, the crime blotter, the milk carton, the mirror

the photos you took
your photos
your dreams



Monday, February 28, 2011

Because happiness never feels the way you think....

Does it?

I'm not sure... well I am sure... I'm sure what's missing... I'm not aiming for cryptography here, well, I am by nature ambiguous (never ambivalent, though), but really, I got ho's in different area codes, that read this shit.  I insinuate; they infer.  Humans are born with the ability to communicate on such a sophisticated level, these languages, systems of infinite combinations of patterns of strings of constructs of sounds made by closing the back of the throat, rounding the lips, flapping the tongue, and exhaling.  Sometimes through the nose.  And sometimes the mouth.

We also, naturally and by nature, kinda think everything's about us.

And sometimes it's got nothin' to do with ya, Sally Mae!  In fact, this is all fake, okay?  I downloaded those music from youtube, and I'm really a man.

But for story's SAKE.

I don't think there's any possible way Brandon (which is actually his real name, which is kinda dumb, but kinda not, for reasons that I will shortly address) has seen this blog, because he doesn't read, and because he doesn't care.  And he's the only one I've said anything bad about and it hasn't even been bad.

But if I can't keep it real here, what's the point?

I wish I was born here in Nashville.  Or somewhere nearby.  I wish I knew the same people my whole life.  I still could've pursued music, it's the perfect place for it... Granted what I do now is a little different, but songwriting, singing, and playing the piano, is always music.  It couldve gone any direction, stylistically... or would it not have?  I mean would I have come out the same person somehow, regardless?

Ughhhh if a tree falls in the fucking forest.

I'm just so sick of starting over.  I'm so sick of reinvention.  I am the phoenix.  And I am one thousand years old. 

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Bloody Mary for Grownups

Okay now this is what I call seriously fucking with oneself.  I don't know I got home tonight, and like, I've been seeing this guy Brandon for a little while now... irrelevant... well.. I'll catch up about that... he's been keeping me busy... rather, I've been keeping him busy.  And waiting.  A lot.  Cuz I'm finally getting my shit together with my music.  I really am.  It's incredible.  I have a band.  They're all amazing.  I just wanna do my stuff, and it sounds so good, and one of the guys knows the owner of this place, the Bluebird Cafe, and said... he might offer us a regular spot there... Gulp. I don't know.  Fingers crossed.  It's all coming together.  But.  Anyway.  

I feel kind of tripped out tonight.  Everything, just, Brandon, asking, so many questions about me, about my past, and old relationships, and, he didn't ask if I've ever been married... of course he didn't-- and like... I was looking in the mirror, after washing my face, and I'm seeing how many lives and how many souls and how many hearts and how many just NON-HUMAN, just BASE, ELEMENTS, inhabit this creature I am... it's not just Chloe in there... it's all my, my fire, my water, my SADNESS has a SPEAR, my GREED, my MENACE, my DEMONS, my DEVILS, my SECRETS, my broken flowers, my helpless and terrified id, my capricious and engulfing lust, and these animals, and the witches... that live in me.  

I'm not on drugs, mind you. WATCH FOR YOURSELF, and tell me you can't see it too... The cat, even, she was staring at me as I was sniveling there in the mirror and then she pounced at me that wasn't me, until I said I'm sorry I'm sorry and I started crying and then she stopped but she was looking around behind the toilet and stuff for whatever it was that she had just seen...

Just watch. 
Doesn't it make nice good background ambience?  Just Like.... the ideal Screensaver?  

Relaxing?  Like a painting in a motel room?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Friday, December 10, 2010

I. Explore your Surroundings.

...so here I am again in a new town.  Here I am again.  In a new town.  Again.  In a town again.
  I have uncharacteristic high-hopes for this place. 

I mean it can't possibly be worse than Utah.  (Can anything?)  Though Utah, driving through Utah as the clouds cast glorious shadows over the rolling mountains, en route to a chateau in Park City for skiing with Milo... could understandably pass for God's Country for the godfearing Mormons.

Mormons are all really really nice.

But people here in Nashville are really, REALLY, REALLY, nice.  And they drink.  And there's music. 

So I'm spending 30 out of the 200 or so I got to my name to spend tonight in a roadside motel.  Gotta at least get one good uninterrupted night's sleep before pounding the pavement and knocking at doors for employment opportunities both musical and not....

Well farewell Utah, and good night Nashville, and good night dear sweet readers.  Tomorrow I'll explore.

xo
CvD