Rock n Roll Moments Are What Make the World Go Round
I sat there looking out of my 3rd story window last night. I saw new people moving into the house across the street. I should say I saw two new girls moving into the house across the street. I looked down at my dirtying, impossible to clean, glass desk and all it's keepings. I looked at my watch and saw it was time for me to go to bed soon. I listened to the music and began to feel sad again, after listening to the same stupid song for the last 3 hours. I wondered to myself, "When did Rock n Roll become more about following the rules than breaking them."
I sat back in my chair, intertwined my fingers, let out a large sigh and thought that I may just want to jump out the window to teach everyone a lesson. I think I may want to be an example of the execution of the human spirit. I examined the option and it seemed almost befitting to want to execute my plan at this time of the year. But then, I thought that the best revenge is to live well. And that's bullshit too. Maybe the best revenge is to exhume envy from those who you always wanted to covet what you had. Nah...fuckin dumb again. Maybe there is no revenge. Maybe there is only you living your life the best way you know how while causing as little pain to the rest of the world as possible. Oh fuck I didn't know what to think. So I sat there and smoked a cigarette and kept playing that lousy fucking song about being a 102 and never getting over you.
When did it become acceptable for me to grovel for a job where I don't get respect enough to hand someone a towel as they get done shitting? When did it become ok to use women as the motivation to drive my action instead of them being the action to drive my motivation? All fucking puppets in my show. Soul mate. Lord. What a laugh? Soul acceptance maybe, even deprecation at this point seems reasonable, as long as it's numb right? What would Lydon think? Ahh who cares - he'd spit on me. What would Weller think? I don't really know him. So I don't know that one either. But the rules started to switch everything around. The rules, the money, the pussy, the elder sneers, and houses in shitty middle class suburbs all made it so confusing now. Up was down. Denim was Khaki and being the class clown was a sign that you were going to fail as opposed to you having all the attention at lunch.
I blew ring after ring of smoke and I sat there. Then I opened my window. There was no screen or curtain. I sat on the ledge with my feet dangling over. It felt nice having my naked skin out in the winter air. It felt nice to think that someone down below or parallel was watching and running somewhere to get a camera to photo my rock n roll moment. I turned that stupid fucking song up real loud and sang out my window. I laughed at myself and thought about leaning out a little further just to give the awaiting photo an action shot instead of a passive contemplative artistic shot. I laughed at that song as I sang it because it was pathetic that I was singing it. Then this other song came on...it was..."The Only Living Boy in New York" by Simon and Garfunkel. I spit out on the car below me.
I climbed back in through the window and sat back down. I took out a picture of an old girlfriend and looked at it. I put it back and reached for my records. I took out The Clash, Pistols, Stooges, and The White Stripes. I played Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground first followed by Revolution Rock and then some Save the Queen. As a testament and a sacrifice to my listening I hurled that pathetic CD with that song I have been listening to out the window and down to the street. Hopefully, someone got a photo.
