It's like turning left. All the time. All at once.
Like carrying around a drawstring bag of memories and emotions and situations and things, and every day pulling the string tighter.
It's like eating a whole block of chocolate.
Like waking up hot and dehydrated, shrinking and tight yet also puffed up and expanding.
Suddenly aware of every little thing in your surroundings and stopping to wonder: how long have the clouds been there?
It's like finding out someone who you've known forever is a real alcoholic instead of the chuckling, beer-swigging hooligan who should spend all their time carving pumpkins and riding tractors.
It's like that one time in the car with that feeling and the acceleration because something actually mattered.
For once, life had meaning and it was going to be recorded. The recording may be jumbled or in lists or in different colour pen, but it would be somewhere and it would exist.
Songs Today
* Jesus of Suburbia Greenday
* Grinspoon, better off alone
* No Rain Blind Melon
* And She Was Talking Heads
* Homecoming Greeenday
* Church on Sunday Greenday
It's like opening the fridge and going, 'Hey, I have a lemon!'
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