...and on sunday, i held a girl's hand.



i don't know if i know how to do this anymore. Who plays with broken toys?




songift:"Volcano" - Damien Rice

"Don't hold yourself like that
cause You'll hurt your knees
well I kissed your mouth, and back
But that's all I need
Don't build your world around
Volcanoes melt you down

And What I am to you is not real
What I am to you, you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for the sea

Don't throw yourself like that
In front of me
I kissed your mouth, your eyes
Is that all you need?
Don't drag my love around
Volcanoes melt me down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you, you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask
What I give to you is just what I'm going through
This is nothing new, no, no just another phase of finding
what I really need is what makes me bleed
But like a new disease, Lord, she's still too young to treat
Volcanoes melt you down
She's still too young +what iam to you+you do not need+is not real
I kissed your mouth
You do not need me"




.

wow.

perfect soundtrack to the 2AM walk in the steadybutbarelyrain: Explosions in the Sky.
(" the only moment we are alone")
They came on my pod, and i off'd the shuffle and let the set stay.

under my hoodie it was a movie, letterbox'd by the edges of it, my plugs snaeking out to the pocket - hands to songs.
("earth is not a cold, dead place")
and i went to the park, again, the playground, hoping to gank a pebble for a piece of it ::talismonger::, but they've mulched it.
as soon as i realized that, i could smell the chips in the rain: smokey cedar, hard hickory, sweet mesquite.
("have you passed thru this night")
so there's a bit of it in my hand all the way home. it'll be travelling more, tomorrow, i'd conjure.

earthcrosser, i weave'd tween the markers in the road, in a lazy slalom, imagining the scene should the cops come by:
me all in black, earplugg'd and grinning like a fool, clutching a bit of wood chip and catching rain on my tongue like some unmariner, trampling an albatross.
("your hand in mine")
i cannae remember the last time i was this happy.

Yesterday still bums me out a bit, like a scab on a bruise, but... eh.

And fuck Italy, by the way.


Here's a song for the new moon. Texas band called Explosions In The Sky. They're instrumental, but dun run from it, it's good.

"A Poor Man's Memories" - Explosions In The Sky

Once i was in a band called Thee Red Oak Social Club. We were just ahead of the grunge thang, and often compared to Soundgarden ( of the day) in our brief lil stint.
- actually here's a quote from a site in Europe ("Freebird Records" in Sewden, by Pepijn Klaassen
25th september 1998), if i can blow my horn a bit for something 15 years ago:

"...And then there was the RED OAK SOCIAL CLUB. By then William was playing guitar. They had JC Belial on vocals, Orville Weal on bass and Nathan Limbaugh (future K2B drummer...) on drums. According to one eye-witness, this band was way ahead of its time and a local sell-out every time. A month before studio JC was forced to leave the band."


'Forced' is a little much, but the result is the same. i can honestly say that i learned more than i lost, in hindsight.
Oh, umm, JC Belial? That's me.
For a span of that year i was in a rock band, worked in a comic shop, worked in the good bar intown, had shows in my living room, did a zine, sold acid, wrote for a real magazine, and my girlfriend was the spitting image of Death of the Endless ( and she loved me...). Good times, but i was too far up there. i had the fucking Ramones in my living room, fer Jah's sake.

But that's another story.



Good shows, and good music... However, there was no room for 2 huge fucking egos in it, and since i was the newer ego, i was out. They later became an instrumental band called Karma To Burn, which i still smile a little at. i shoulda pressed the issue with the name, but i was weary and embarassed of the whole thing. Still am sometimes. Feels like impotence, somehow, and guys hate that. or so i've heard.

Oh, i'm fine tho. i can stil hang a wet towel on it.