Wednesday, April 22, 2009

My Knowledge of The Beastie Boys

Is infallible. Adam Horovitz is my favorite.

That's a lie. I love them all equally. (And no matter what Mike D says, I give them all equal amounts of marshmallows in their hot chocolate.)

Here's something from him that shakes me down.

It's about the song, Live Wire.

I wrote this song about two people. One was this kid I only met a
couple of times, but he just seemed so cool, the other was for my
best friend Dave Scilken and other friends past present and future.
It's hard to know what to do when you love someone who's drug
problem is out of control....

I know where you got to be going but you don't know why
I see things I ought not to know but I can't help life
You never knew my heart for you was monster size
You're a live wire

Let me know if you want to check out for the all time high
My man told me long hellos and short good byes
But you are something else I love you please don't lie
You're a live wire.

Adam Horovitz

Now, I don't know a soul who suffers from a drug problem. I know people who are "suffering" in their own right though. Ones I love, ones who slip through my fingers, ones who live so far away. Even the ones, I don't like so much.

So are you ready to discuss something kind of uncomfortable? I am. I hate confrontation. Let's start with that little gem. But, you know, there are times, it's necessary. Unavoidable.

In order to move forward. Stuck in a moment? Ever been there? It sucks, and not just a U2 song. Yeah, someone else had a stuck in a moment song, but that's the only one I can think of.

Have you ever just HAD to do something? Your guts won't let you rest until you come clean about it. It's not anything bad. I'm sure your Pastor or therapist would wholeheartedly agree with that statement. It's ok, I can wait here, til you check. Er, it actually tells you so in that book on your shelf.

Maybe I'm it. What is that? Compulsion? Conviction? Melted together. Then, it's easier to let it go. Because you know the answer then. You have the clarity to know HOW to feel. Ha!

Bull by the horns. (Cue now to Bossa Nova 60's music)

Next question. When does it feel right?
Don't play golden retriever with me. You know what. The action.
Of doing so.
What you need to do to move on?
Right. Right. I gotta just decide. Or see more crows. Or push it a little deeper.

My opinions shouldn't be rejected because no one likes me. BC, I'm pretty, or smart, or so fucking right on, it even scares YOU!(The fearless)(Confident)

I suffer? To make you feel better?

The above, had been my penance.

My ideal? A man who can play a little air piano to The Who. That's who.
Who's coming to dinner. Who's on first.
Those are statements. Not, questions.

Exactly, who do you invest in? The ones who like you? The ones who you can't possibly force yourself to listen to? No, I'm not a narcissist. I have. Substance. I'm a good girl. I'm such an open book. Easy to read. My emotions pour out of my face. Which, I've learned to accept.

I have short legs. I have thicker legs for a thin girl. I guess boys like that. Right?

I felt bad. I did. We sat at Market Square, and Jenn had made a statement about a song. So and so sings this song. Not that, I know everything about music, but I corrected her before I realized what was coming out of my mouth. I sat back in my chair, kind of ashamed of myself.
That's my reality. I find myself, all know it all-y.
It's just like Jeopardy. I don't always say the right answer, but I always answer.
I'm freaky deaky at Jeopardy. You didn't know that did you? Or Wheel of Fortune.
You can thank my Mamaw.

My whole Jenn story? Is that I usually just know things.

So when does it feel right? It's very close. Get ready.

Coincidence? No, no, no. Not real. Choices. God's hand. The end.

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