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jack_babalonSitting here at home on a Saturday night still processing Friday's hang-over, neither able to wake up nor pass out. So I'm up remembering this conversation I had with Marianne Net the evening before. I confessed a revelation that struck me while stuck in traffic last week. How for years it seemed I was cursed to meet all the right women too late in life, arriving blind upon their circumstances long after the fire of possibility had been extinguished. But the truth seems to be that I simply met them too soon. What has grown out of the ruins of my indifference these last two years, what burns defiant in tragedy's ash, what has been sculpted by countless back stabs (mine & theirs) and heart breaks (theirs & mine), what has evolved to crawl out of the primordial waters of my neurosis... has risen to stand as the man they should've met long ago.
What Marianne replied is beyond my recollection's ability to retrieve through mists of whiskey and pot smoke. But it boiled down to this: If there's one upside to being in a prison, whether self-imposed or not, it's that it's never too late to try and escape.
I'm not out yet, but through the secret tunnel's wall before me, the chipped knife reveals the first ray of light.
You dig?
What Marianne replied is beyond my recollection's ability to retrieve through mists of whiskey and pot smoke. But it boiled down to this: If there's one upside to being in a prison, whether self-imposed or not, it's that it's never too late to try and escape.
I'm not out yet, but through the secret tunnel's wall before me, the chipped knife reveals the first ray of light.
You dig?