Fear & Loathing in Doraville

[jack_babalon]

Telephone ringing all morning. A braver man would have answered, rather than hiding behind the answering machine like some kind of shivering cur. I let it ring and ring until the click and beep of a recorded message booms across the hallway of the Princess' Pink Palace-"Rob! I know your there pick up...". But the bastards know no such thing, if they did know I was there, then they would know that there was no way I was going to answer the phone with my nerves shot to hell like this. It's too early to drink, and it's too late to smoke up, i'm trapped in a vicious state of sobriety. Clear thoughts hanging in my brain like a guillotine shining on a bright day. I look at myself in the mirror. I still don't believe this is the way I look at 33. Some horrible cross between Tor Johnson & John Malkovich. I rinse my face, water dripping off the cheeks and the rings under my eyes resemble battlefield craters. I gotta be outta my fucking head.I'm no stage cowboy- I don't like the high noon Highs of looking some unruly mob in the eye and telling them how it will and will not be. Fuck that! Stay in the shadows boy, write madly your caffeine induced blogs, invisible behind a viel of words, hit or miss ain't so bad, when your shooting from the dark. But I can't do that. Though failure is always option for any man doing any endeavor at any given time in the flow of history, what has never been an option though is quitting. I think of the times i'd throw myself into a scrap after the shows, only to end up face down in the concrete, kick after kick to the ribs, and the horrible ability NOT to fall unconscious. But I always felt better for the experience. "Crazy Howard" would often tell me "You gotta get yer ass kicked, to kick some ass." Maybe it was all that Acid and Lithium he was on, maybe not you could never tell with Howard, but he was right. And though I never got to kick much ass, I did my time and took my licks. This will probably be no different. Though the fear seems unsurmountable right now, it will feel much worse if I just hide in the house and watch the Simpsons. Anyway time to go, shave the head, do some push-ups, put on a pair of pants god damn it- there are roomates just waking up.
Five hours in counting.
Signing off- Res Ipsa Loquitor!