Friends in Low Places
I work at a steakhouse. Country songs flow through my head all day and I come home and sing them all to my roommate. Such tunes as "Suds in the Bucket", "Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy", "Friends in Low Places", and "It's Alright to be a Redneck" were favorites for quite some time. I am getting those out of my head now and what is left are the ones from these crooners, with these big voices and tiny problems. I mean, I fel like in rap music its sort of the other way, little voices and big problems. Isn't that funny the way it is? But people who sing country seem to be able to open their mouth and sing and shout about whatever little thing is going on. It's just interesting is all. Today, after spending some time with a friend in need, I had this one in my head:
She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
She broke his heart: He spent his whole life trying to forget.
We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time,
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind,
Until the night:
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger.
And finally drank away her memory.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger,
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.
We found him with his face down in the pillow,
With a note that said: 'I'll love her till I die.'
And when we buried him beneath the willow,
The angels sang a whiskey lullabye.
La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la.
La la la la la la la,
La la la la la la la.
I don't know. I had to stop for a moment yesterday. For those of you that know me, you know that is not something I do very often. I mean I am always on the go, always getting to where I need to be and mostly doing things for myself. I used to be very selfless but I have tried to become very self-centered as I find I can get further without having to stop and be hurt. Makes sense right? I mean I won't psychoanalyze, that's lame.
I guess there has been a lot going on. I have been sort of vague and mysterious about it all, but then again when have I not been known to be vague and mysterious? It's part of my charm? Agreed? Well here is the big thing recently: nothing is certain. Like, who knows when/if I will get my actual degree and actually graduate, who knows what I am doing with my love/sex life/lives, who knows what happens after my New York show in August? You know actually I think I know the answer to all of those questions, and it basically is NOTHING. That is certain. Nothing is certain. Cause my ass certainly will be doing a whole lot of nothing. And the anxiety is not really about that part of the whole equation. It is about all the opportunities, all the choices I am presented, and not really being able to take any of them, or wanting to. Its not that all is lost for me, I have found that recently I am in a what Victor Turner calls a liminal state-- "liminal" meaning threshhold in Latin-- not being in one place or the other, but precisely at the "turning point". (Did I say how much I love my Anthro class?) The problem of course with being in a liminal state is that you are no longer who you used to be, and you surely not who you want to be, and so you are basically dead. You are a social nobody, a zero. You can't turn back, but you can't forcibly get there right now. You bascially don't exist anywhere.
I'm not trying to go all existentialist or anything. I know I exist, in the hearts of my friends, on the minds of my enemies, in my steakhouse country-singing existence. Sometimes I don't have a big enough mouth for my huge problems. Sometimes I whisper when I should probably scream. But here I am, waiting for the strength to get up off my knees. I'm not sad, just ready to take off, ready to leave this place and do more than just exist, to really live. Waking up in the morning is not enough, but I guess you gotta start somewhere.
She put him out like the burning end of a midnight cigarette.
She broke his heart: He spent his whole life trying to forget.
We watched him drink his pain away, a little at a time,
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind,
Until the night:
He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger.
And finally drank away her memory.
Life is short, but this time it was bigger,
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees.
We found him with his face down in the pillow,
With a note that said: 'I'll love her till I die.'
And when we buried him beneath the willow,
The angels sang a whiskey lullabye.
La la la la la la la
La la la la la la la.
La la la la la la la,
La la la la la la la.
I don't know. I had to stop for a moment yesterday. For those of you that know me, you know that is not something I do very often. I mean I am always on the go, always getting to where I need to be and mostly doing things for myself. I used to be very selfless but I have tried to become very self-centered as I find I can get further without having to stop and be hurt. Makes sense right? I mean I won't psychoanalyze, that's lame.
I guess there has been a lot going on. I have been sort of vague and mysterious about it all, but then again when have I not been known to be vague and mysterious? It's part of my charm? Agreed? Well here is the big thing recently: nothing is certain. Like, who knows when/if I will get my actual degree and actually graduate, who knows what I am doing with my love/sex life/lives, who knows what happens after my New York show in August? You know actually I think I know the answer to all of those questions, and it basically is NOTHING. That is certain. Nothing is certain. Cause my ass certainly will be doing a whole lot of nothing. And the anxiety is not really about that part of the whole equation. It is about all the opportunities, all the choices I am presented, and not really being able to take any of them, or wanting to. Its not that all is lost for me, I have found that recently I am in a what Victor Turner calls a liminal state-- "liminal" meaning threshhold in Latin-- not being in one place or the other, but precisely at the "turning point". (Did I say how much I love my Anthro class?) The problem of course with being in a liminal state is that you are no longer who you used to be, and you surely not who you want to be, and so you are basically dead. You are a social nobody, a zero. You can't turn back, but you can't forcibly get there right now. You bascially don't exist anywhere.
I'm not trying to go all existentialist or anything. I know I exist, in the hearts of my friends, on the minds of my enemies, in my steakhouse country-singing existence. Sometimes I don't have a big enough mouth for my huge problems. Sometimes I whisper when I should probably scream. But here I am, waiting for the strength to get up off my knees. I'm not sad, just ready to take off, ready to leave this place and do more than just exist, to really live. Waking up in the morning is not enough, but I guess you gotta start somewhere.