The first word in happiness is "ha!". The last word in lonesome is "me".
I think happiness/lonesome thing is from a Replacements
song. Or a Paul Westerberg song... I can't remember.
And the other day I got that fortune. I was stunned when
I saw it... that's unequivocably the most completely off the
mark fortune I've ever gotten, unless things are quickly
going to make a 180 degree turn. Maybe it's some sort
of "hold onto hope" message. Or, um... was meant for
John Wygle, in which case it would've been true! Oh well.
There are plenty of other things for me to be happy
about. Namely that we appear to have finished mixing
our record, titled "Five Digit Land", which we should
have back in mid-March or something. I like that title,
and the title track is probably one of my favorite songs
I've ever written. I wrote it for a friend from suburbia
who told me about how she had recently planned on
killing herself. I felt sad for her, and felt that what I
probably told her at the time probably didn't adequately
capture how terrible I felt about it. Truth is, we were on
our way to lunch at Chelsea's and it was mentioned so
matter-of-factly that I didn't want an overwhelming
response to call more attention to it. But I felt worse
when later that day she was the only person I can ever
say hugged me with desperation. And later, after writing
the song, I remembered that her address was 9800
something, so she's like 2 blocks short of "five digit land".
Oh well. She's still alive and I'm happy for it.
You can listen here:
http://www.apocalypsetheapocalypse.com/label/mp3s/fw_fivedigitland.mp3
and you can read here:
Five Digit Land
You’d swear you lost ten seasons
to the perfect treeless yards
of this five digit land.
You want appeasement,
but I don’t know the name
of those rooms in which you’re losing yourself.
Seems not long ago
you were clipping coupons
for your mother, lying on the
kitchen floor,
but now the days flow
faster, faster ‘til
you tell me there’s no
counting anymore.
And I guess there might’ve been leaves on the ground,
and we watched while all the lights shut down.
You can’t escape your parents’ dreams...
when you fail next, you’ll make good on what you mean
when you say that love’s just a part of it
you pay no mind. You pay no mind,
when there’s no one left behind.
Stood at the curb and wrung your restless hands.
How many here are making escape plans?
Heat ticks the hours away
‘til he who failed will be your next cause to stay.
Once spoken was a painless way
in your white car, in your white car.
“Can’t you come back so far?”
Now the rain is drilling holes into the streets
and the trees are twisting down. I want released
to that dim-lit room where you lie on your back and count each breath.
Where you couldn’t tell my why none of your stories ever end in death.