THERE'S THIS CROW CAWING OUTSIDE AND THIS SONG COMES ON...
WOW WOW WOW AND YES PERHAPS I'M NOT ALL READY FOR THIS EMOTIONAL ANYTHING YOU KNOW? COULD YOU TELL ME WHY IT'S THE ARTISTIC ONES WHO HAVE TO HURT ALL THAT MUCH MORE, SUCKING UP THE PAIN FOR THE REST OF THE WORLD, SO WE CAN THEN SPIT IT OUT, THROW IT OUT, ALL DRESSED UP AND MADE PRETTY, AND POWERFUL, AND WITH TALENT, SO THAT THEY, THE ONES WITHOUT THE GIFT (WHO NEVER REALLY TRIED) CAN READ IT AND SAY HEY, WOW...I'M ALIVE.
NOT SO SURE IT'S WORTH IT, THIS BARGAIN. WOW WOW WOW WOW, UNBELIEVABLE, LIKE A SYRUP THIS MOOD IS. LIKE SOMETHING SEETHING, CURDLING, BOILING UP. MY
THOUGHTS DRIFT LAZY LIKE AN AUTUMN LEAF ON ITS WAY TO THE GROUND, AND SWOOSH ALONG COMES THIS BIT OF WIND,
SOME REAL INTENSE PIECE OF MEMORY, AND I ALONG GO WITH IT RELIVING SCENES...
AND HOW I HURT HER. WINCE. I'M WINCING A LOT LATELY. STUPID STUPID STUPID. HOW IS IT PEOPLE HURT THOSE THEY LOVE? I REMEMBER HIGH SCHOOL PUPPY LOVE, WHEN MY NOTEBOOKS WERE NEW, AND LEARNING HOW EASY TO CHANGE LOVE TO HATE....NOT SO DIFFERENT THESE TWO. A THIN LINE TO CROSS.
LOVE AND HATE, AND MEMORIES OF THE MIXING OF THEM: HARD AS LIFE. TOUGH AS CHANGE.