June 17, 2010

Eight Fables About Action, Inaction, and Distraction

If I'm part of a problem, but not part of the problem, then it's not really your problem.
—Keir DuBois
For many years now, I've forgotten my dreams—if I ever remember at all. Reality wants my attention more often, so I always come when she calls, and I'm getting used to the pull of routine and the comfort of my fatal flaws. Cause I never really found Boredom attractive, but she won't stop flirting with me. She don't understand that I can't reprimand her for such innocent flattery, and I used to think I could hold out forever—but she's circling patiently. For many years now, I've forgotten the fear—but now I remember it all. The nerves and the pressure of one good impression are making my confidence crawl, cause I've got a date with Ambition tonight but she's not returning my calls.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/fatal-flaws">Fatal Flaws by Honey White</a>

Get busy bringing out the cheap tequila. It's awful, but I just can't put it down. Here comes another drinking song, but I can't help myself—lately the hangovers and hang-ups hang around, and suffer like a half-assed work of fiction within the steady grip of epic funk. If talent jumps a generation, here it skipped them all—as if it's easier to deal with it drunk, and sing one last hallelujah before we say good night. The liquor's flowing all over creation, and even though by now it's way too late, I'll have a little rum and honey, you can nurse your gin—and we'll pretend to finally set the record straight, cause your attention span's a starving artist, and it's high time you finally did some good. Who do you think you are now, honey? What do you take me for? Get off the cross—it's cold, we need the firewood. And if you're going back to town alone, you better keep your halo out of sight, and sing one last hallelujah before you say good night.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/one-last-hallelujah-2">One Last Hallelujah by Honey White</a>
Survival on the naked truth has saved another boring youth from having any bit of fun, or getting close to anyone—and by the time I bought the myth an amateur could deal with, I heard the luck was running out for everybody anyhow. Come on love—forget about the pressure and the fear, cause we can't afford to waste another year. It used to mean the world to me, but chasing down elusive dreams and second-guessing everything is so unhealthy, mon ami. Come on love—forget about the pressure and the fear, cause we can't afford to waste another year. Here we come now, here we come—so unprofessional to some—but we know better, we know best, and we'll endure nevertheless. Come on love—forget about the pressure and the fear, cause we can't afford to waste another year.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/unprofessional-2">Unprofessional by Honey White</a>
Too lazy if I work, too nervous if I steal. Too heavy if I hurt, too harmless if I heal. Too smart to waste the effort, too stupid to appeal to anyone too superficially unreal. So please have mercy on me—I don't know what I want to be. Too many hours later, too much is still the same. Too close to losing everything and too scared to play the game. Too good to get the credit for taking all the blame, and too thirsty for the glory to feel any shame. So please have mercy on me—I don't know what I want to be. Too noisy on location, too quiet on the set to notice if I might deserve exactly what I get. Too casual in theory to really break a sweat, and too busy at the moment to care about that yet. The choice ain't ever up to me, and it's not the life I want to lead, so please have mercy on me—I don't know what I want to be.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/mercy-rule">Mercy Rule by Honey White</a>
A few weeks into summer, and I've yet to see the sun illuminating anything the way I want it done. It's not for lack of trying, and not for lack of fun, but I got tangled up beneath the losers and the lost—ripping into frenzy just to get the point across, and desperate to win it all no matter what the cost. If only you could see me now. If only you could see me now. I knew what I was doing—I knew it all along. I knew when not to worry all about the right or wrong of ending up anonymous and dying to belong. If only you could see me now. If only you could see me now. Don't know if it'll ever be enough for anyone to believe me when I promise that I've only just begun to keep myself from sinking into sweet oblivion. If only you could see me now. If only you could see me now.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/sweet-oblivion">Sweet Oblivion by Honey White</a>
Somehow we began the night invincible as ever, and always so impulsive or inspired. Somehow we're all ending up immobilized together, and always so oblivious and tired. Suddenly it's all about denial on a bender, and everyone's so easily impressed. Suddenly it's all about the easiest surrender, and definitely blacking out the rest, forgetting everything I know and then dissolving into history again. The waves are rolling in again, allmighty and illegal, and I'm already in over my head. The volume is intensive and the impacts are for real and no one is immune who isn't dead.

<a href="http://honeywhite.bandcamp.com/track/blacking-out">Blacking Out by Honey White</a>
When I was younger, I was still insane—I looked like Abel and I felt like Cain. I learned to fear, I learned the art of war—until I guess I couldn't take it anymore. or else I got too callous—so I grew up and I approached the bomb with automatic cool and heroic calm, methodically defused her right in time, and now our reason overrules our rhyme and interrupts our rhythm. So, why upend the balance? Sometimes I feel okay, and deal, and I give up but then sometimes I feel like tempting fate again, or wreaking havoc every now and then, or risking everything I got to slash and burn up past another point of no return, and leave the rest in ruins. So why upend the balance? Sometimes I feel okay, and deal, and I give up but tonight—tonight I feel like tempting fate again.
Still up against the way it always will be, and shackled to the way it's always been. Still opposite the center of attention, and banished to the outside looking in. Forgiven any consequence of any reckless stunts, as long as I do anything to win. Don't matter if I can't move like I used to, or even if I think as slow as sin, or even if I don't know any better, or if a soul is underneath this skin—cause all the broken pieces always snap back into place as long as I do anything to win. Cause I can take a dive, yeah I can take a fall—but as soon as I can take control I'm gonna take it all. So when the worst of here and now is over, and dangerous charades are wearing thin, and aftershocks are right around the corner, and ever after's itching to begin, I'll look out on the promised land, the king of all I see—as long as I do anything to win. Oh yeah, I would do anything—it's been too long, I'm bound to hit the wall. Cause I can take a dive, yeah I can take a fall—but as soon as I can take control I'm gonna take it all.

4 comments:

  1. "Still up against the way it always will be, and shackled to the way it's always been." I truly feel this brother. Your writing is an inspiration.

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  2. Thank you sir, very kind. I gotta say, lines like that feel good to sing real loud. They show up like a gift every once in a while.

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  3. I still like "As if I ought to lose a piece of me to win some piece of mind." Excellent statement with clever wordplay too.

    Of course, it's from a song not listed here, but I feel okay with cheating by using my outside information. :)

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  4. Yup, I was planning on doing a second round of this stuff. I just need to find the unifying theme.

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