It started when we were little kids. Free spirits, but already tormented by our own hands, given to us by our parents. We got together and wrote on desks and slept in laundry rooms near snowy mountains and slipped through whatever cracks we could find, minds altered. We didn't falter in portraying hysterical and tragic characters in a smog-filled universe.
We loved the dirty city and the journeys away from it. We had not yet been or seen our friends' selves chase tails round and round in downward spiral, leaving a trail of irretrievable vital life juice behind. Still, the brother-blood-comrades-partner-family-cuz was inpenetrable, and we lived inside it, laughing with no clothes. And everything experimental till death was upon us.
In our face: mortality. And lots of things seemed futile then, but love and music can save us, and did, while the giant gray monster grew more poisoned and volatile around us, jaws clamping down and spewing ugly shit around. Nothing is the same. So we keep moving. We keep moving.
[ September 30, 2003, 10:08 PM: Message edited by: Titan ]
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