Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

This is just the worse. I mean, I am not a grumpy guy. Au contre`! You know me. I sing all the way to work. Hell I skipp out of the door when I go out. Because I belive that some crazy shit is gonna happen every time.
It was just grey. Rather annoyingly cold. Vague breeze from straight above. Visual asphalt on the main roads. No, I wasn’t getting grumpy. I am 40 this year. I admit it freaks me out. But I don’t act weird about it or anything, it just freaks me out. And now this weather. Not coming in, not going anywhere. Just hanging around.
I had to go down to the gas station and buy some milk and beans. It is kinda my day of. Wednesday. Kid away. Eggs and bacon. The odd joint and a glass of Italian.
I decided to take the car. Drove around town. Me and the Honda-saint. Did a little of this and that. Old jackets and a plastic bag to the Army. New wipers for the Saviour. God knows he deserved it. Metal hooks tore sunsets in the front glass.
Turned of the music. Opened the window. Had a Lucky. Drove across. Across the bridge and over to the island. Across the sea promenade with the mad swans lurking around the beach, spotting out the old folks. Past the Norweigian Lady http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwegian_Lady_Statues
Staring over to Virginia beach, went into traffic on the Canal bridge.
Turned on the radio:
“…and the second best song from 1972 iiiiiiis…: Heart of gold, By Neil Young!”
it came on. darkened, but it was still bright out there. It was nearly 1800. 6 in the afternoon. Man, in just a couple weeks now this long, long winter will be over. Endless. Endless winter. and I'm home.
I usually enjoy most weather kinds, and seasons. But this is… a bit freaky. These are freaky times, man. And I think I’m a bit scared now.
Nothing that the reefer couldn’t handle though.
Hell, I even went down and bought another bottle of milk on the gas station.

Went down to the pub. I knew they’d be there. And she came straight over and sat next to me. He went out for a cigarette.
“Can I sit here?”
“ Sure”. she searced for my eyes. they read the sport section.
“ Here’s the 30 kroner I owe you”
“ Ah, thanks” I said. Threw’em in the glass on the other side of the counter.
“ I’m getting a new phone number”, she said after while of newspaper reading. i dint care.
“ you want it?”
“ No”, I said. “I’m sorry”.
“ I guess you got nothing to be sorry about, huh?”.
" not this time".
" ... no".

He came back in. People had tried to kill him for years, but he just wouldn’t die. His head had been cracked open three times.
He was one of those psychopaths. Not the silence of the lamb kind. Not the intelligent seducer . This was one of those real stupid psychopaths.
I packed down my Hurakami-book and stood up.
Nothing more. We didn’t look at each other. He wasn’t even there.

When I got home I watched the horses.
And then the teacher called and said, my son had skipped classes today.
I ate my eggs.
Paid some bills.
Called the bass player again for the 100th time.
Sent a message, “pick up, man, we gotta move on”.

I don't mind the grumpy so much anymore it is the got dam anger that gets me down.

Comes on out of nowhere these days, but I push it down, I have not put a fist through a wall in twenty years.

Been trying to get out side all day

But they got the doors locked again.

Enjoyed reading this.

I thank god I am a harmless pyscho path in my old age. I have not thought about killing anyone in a long time, not since houston in 1982

Never been a N*zi though.

yeah. that is it, isnt it? the anger.
i damn the ones who have none.
thnaks for reading this( so fast), i wasnt sure if anybody would.

still trying to get out side

thanks for writing

lifted my spirits

but I can't tell you why

just did

even found the energy to brush my teeth

I forgot what I was going to say

oh yeah

old saying about
"have children and let them raise you"

those of us with out kids got to raise ourselves I suppose

that is why I am sixty eight years old going on fifteen.

ah... the forties and its freaking weather
lifesaving with Moss ...
dictator´s wreck ...
kid´s skipping classes ...
but hey!, it must be also some kind of music there!

enjoyed the reading, thanks!!!!!!

bless you, arcadia.
yeah. that harvest song came at an Awkward linear time.
some time those songs do that.

strange thing was, yeasterday i mailed a long gone friend of mine, just to say hi. and 30 minutes later neil young announces his arrival to norway in june. and we always go to those concerts with that weird ol' man.

He gots to be the same generation as stilltrucking. i d give anything to grow up back in the days.
the things you musta heard, man.
who the hell cares about whats going on out there anyway?
you've been in the glory days. nothing here to take that away.
it cant get worse if it aint that bad.
fuck it. I'm going out Butch.
theres no key. it needs a kick.

good read, muddy... enjoyed the ramble.. a little insight into your world and how you cope.. we all need coping mechanisms.. some are smooth and cool, others choppy and routine like they hate it... hell who knows how to live this thing we're all part of... just listen to some music and ruin the body in wonder of what someplace else would be like if... fucking 'if' ... fuck if.. if is about as real as volcano shoes with rhinestone laces...

thx, lasse... and thx to all the reply people's thoughts..

there's no key
there's only
autumn song
today

and not much weather just
another bottle
of vague winter silence

i drove around town
and across the
visual asphalt in my anger
cracked open three times

staring at the way i am
a bit scared and
in need of a
kick


(thanks for the cut-up inspiration, lasse!)

hey Cecil. i dont know how the hell you came up with the vulcano shoes and the rhinestone laces, but that just shows ou can feel my drift. ) that goes for you all. thats something.
what if, huh...

hehe. narrowed down to a poem. who would have thought. Phanta rei of the Scwartswalle. it sounds a lot better coming from your fingers. its a job for dirty fingernails.

this weekend is all figured out, another free b 3-day conquest:

1. friday poker turnament
2. fotball game with the lads. yes. the spring is upon us. a pre-game before the season. a warm up for the supporters, me and the over the hill lads.
3. another party for another mate turning ... awww God, ...40.
4. rehersal with the band (if we can find Lars)
(im planning on introdusing a new song; the shark abides the fairy ride)

have a different weekend all over!
you, guys...

"There is no key"

You busted me sister.

I was taking poetic license with my metaphors.

"the gates of hell have no key, they are always open" read that in a trash novel I can't remember which one.

while googling for the title

I found out that there is no key to happiness, gates of heaven are also always open.


The weather here is so boring

Nothing life threatening about it.

Are you familiar with a radio show called The Prairie Home Companion. A show from St Paul Minnesota where so many of the Norwegian immigrants wound up because they were homesick for winter.

I hope you have a good week end my good man.