Tales of Melancholy (Holy Fuck Is Right)
Carbonated suger reminded me of high school summers and of video games and longhaired Metallica songs. I'm so old now. Old and lost. It's scary how sad that is. But I live on. Why not. I'm prepared to handle whatever fate might bring to me. It may be a beautiful girl from the other side of the equator. Sure she may be underaged but all the same it won't matter when we rendezvous in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Or I may be dealt the death card and a nasty wet hurricane will form from unknown origins (an angry butterfly in Indonesia flaps its wings with malicious content.) Whatever life brings me I will find some way to survive. For I am a survivor and that's what we all are so far. Maybe we are just lucky.
Today I thought about the past. Do I really want to do that and allow the pain to resurface? Was there any pain or did I just think there was? I don't recall. I think there might have been. It shouldn't matter now in the present. I have everything I need in life don't I? Except for this headache. It sure isn't helping. Why is the past such a delicate subject? Everybody has there story to tell including me. But not today. Not ever. I did have my chance but my storytelling days are long over. Maybe some other time. I don't need to tell people even this. I don't need them or anybody. And I keep forgetting that.
Winter of 2000. The cold dries my skin especially my nose. It starts to peel and burn. Winter is evil. In the past it wasn't as evil as it is now. Christmas and inclement weather. Black ice and dark afternoons. Turkey dinners and freezing toilet seats. Sock puppets and hot chocolate. Blind driver's cold ale sitting on the hood of the car. Pneumonia and the goddamn end of the world. Forget about the sock puppets. New Year's Eve and the Universal Finale. Holy Fuck!
I don't have much time. I need to make a quick getaway out the back door. Nobody will see me. When the time is right I'll go. Go far south. Get away from this demonic ice hell. It's been 3 months and those morlocks living under the boardwalk down by Asbury Park will crawl to the surface and finish us all off. Who will they go after first? I cannot go head. A nuclear missile delivered right to my front door. Family bomb shelter riots. No not for me. What am I afraid of? I don't know. It's not really winter yet. But it may as well be cause it's so fucking cold out. I'll need to make contact with everyone before I go. Say goodbye to them. They'll think it's me that's never returning but it's them. Pack lightly just in case I have to go on foot up into the mountains.
