Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Hi blog.


You know better than anyone that things never go the way you think they will.

I know.

Truth is that I don't think I ever recovered from the West Nile Virus last summer. I don't have the energy I used to. My brain has completely slowed down. I don't get restless when I do nothing. Everything seems dulled. I am The Stranger. I am existentialism. I am floating through a meaningless void of nothing.

You cant' tell them that.

Why? I went to LA and hung with movie stars and partied at all the exclusive clubs. I saw the grotto at the Playboy Mansion, I surfed the Malibu break and I had dinner with someone whose sex tape is on my computer. And still, it didn't change one god damn thing. I spent countless nights at home with my guitar dreaming of a life of music and I spent the rest of them watching producers and directors and stars snort lines off the glass-topped poolside tables. And it just rolled off.

Stop. Just stop.

I'm sorry. What do you want from me?

Haven't you learned anything? You're not here for you. You're here for them. You're their rockstar. And rockstars always keep rocking. When the curtain comes up. You don't stop. You don't flinch. You don't show any fear. If you break a string or you've got a cold or your head is pounding like the bass drum you don't give them so much as a sigh. You can't give them any sign that you're weak .It doesn't matter if you feed them shit. Pure shit. If you keep rocking, if you make them feel like they're experiencing something just a little bigger and a little greater than who they are, than where they are, than what they are, they'll love you for it. You can make people think that you're really kicking their ass. I mean, really kicking it harder then its ever been kicked. And really you're barely scraping by. It's all a trick of what's in their memory. In what they see. In how you make them feel. It's not about what you say. It's all about how you say it. Don't apologize. Don't' fucking apologize for anything.

They're here because they want you to do things for them that they can't do for themselves. To take them places that they can't go on their own. They want you to be a superhero. They NEED you to be a superhero. Just for a second. Just for 4 god damn minutes a day they need you to reach down and pull them up out of the drudgery and make it worth living. Even if it's not. Even if you've been to the top and you've seen it and it's not at all like the VH1 Specials and the reality TV shows. They need the hope. But most of all they need the rock. So shut the hell up. Shut the hell up and give it to them. Give it to them fast, give it to them slow and then just give it to them unrelentingly. And when you're done, go back to the sorority house where you're working again and do the same thing to the girls. And don't ever even think about apologizing for any of it.


Blogger dbhayes said...

you and the blog are both right.

i missed you. in the straightest way possible.

10:50 PM  
Blogger Mo said...

ive decided that blogs are smarter than we'll ever be.

11:03 PM  

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