Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Manhattan Special

I just got back from my nightly walk listened to some Jim Croce on the mp3 player "Hey tomorrow, you gotta believe that I'm through wastin' what's left of me..." Inhaled some carcinogens and passed some other carcinogen inhalers on my nightly ritual, lung-cancer-bound ships passing in the night. I used to imagine when I was a teenager that I would live in a city and go walking late at night smoking cigarettes except the city was going to be London and I was going to be making television shows and movies, and it's amazing how some things in life work out the way you dreamed it would but its never exactly the same and you can't help but bitch and moan "and I'm gonna go there free like the fool I am and I'll always be, I got a dream, I got a dream... they can change their minds but they can't change me..." We watched Dr. Who & The Army of Ghosts the other night and Joe asked if I believed in ghosts and I said well there hasn't been any proof of dead people contacting us, so they could exist in the same way Bertrand Russell's Teapot exists floating somewhere around the sun all alone in the darkness, but I was stretching the truth because I feel all the ghosts of who I was and who was before me walking around in my head with me. It's been almost thirty years and my grandfather is still in my head along with all my other invisible friends that I dearly miss who keep me company and sometimes I wonder if there's room for me in here.


1 comment:

String said...

Watch out, sounds like they are staging a take over!