-painful means to a happy ending-

I was in college, listening to Perry Farrel croon “I have the devil in me, it’s a cloud. Sadness. It’s a cloud”.

I clumsily played along the stylized pretenses of a writer,  strumming the guitar to Pavement’s In The Mouth Of A Desert in such proud fashion you’d think i wrote the song.

15 years. Everything was gospel if it hurt bad enough.

Looking at my reflection on the greasy water of the kitchen sink- i’m hoping things have changed. Now hairless, old, a little worn-down- the ghosts of christmas past seem to still show me i’m just as unwise, just as weak and just as crazy as when, fueled by teenage angst, I thought the image of loaded guns gleamed with the promise of hope and beautiful things.

Let’s dance to Joy Division! Celebrate the irony. Everything is going wrong but we’re so happy.

So. Am I acceptable? Will I ever be? What do I have to do? Tell me.

With its face warped by a quiet grin, the reflection stays still. Holy molten metal batman! This one calls for another valiant act of disassociation!

Hehe. That might actually work- except this time, there’s no doubt. There’s less in you to love than there is to hate, Sir.

You have the devil in you- it’s a cloud. It follows you around like a pair of headphones. Let’s dance to Joy Division and celebrate the irony. Everything is always wrong.

But we’re so happy.