It's 620 am, and i've been sleeping for less than 2 hrs. I had a nightmare, and i needed to vacate the bed, and then, when that didn't work, to vacate the room to try and escape my brain. I'm not at all good at shaking off the sleepies, especially when i'm trapped in my own fear.
I lit a cigarette, cranked winamp (as much as one can crank when one doesn't live alone) and went to AV. A cigarette that early makes me nauseous, and AV was deathly quiet. "Crazy Mary", on the other hand, wrapped me up. Thank you, Eddie.
I know where they come from, because it's not the first, and, though it's been ten years, it won't be the last. I forget, though - while i've become awfully powerful in that time - i'm still not invincible, and the dreams are still beyond me. Like sand, they run through my fingers and leave grit on my palms; impossible to capture them and turn them to Sam's glass.
(NP: For those of you on the "hotlist hotlist", you'll get the reference, so please don't call. For those not - please don't ask. And since no matter the list, you know i suck at the emo-girl bit, i'll likely delete this when today becomes today anyway)
My guard was down. My priorities were wrong. My love, my care, and my vigilance were hyper-focused - on the wrong targets, and by the time i realized it, it was too late, and there was nothing i could do. And somehow, midstream, everything became something else, something new, and it was all old again. As the cobwebs clear - it was even the same door. Mary mother of god...they're supposed to become *less* real as you wander out of the grey and into the light, aren't they?
God help me, i'm sorry and i've paid, enough for all of us. You've had your piece - let me take some peace for myself.
I hate starting the day with a cigarette. I hate worse starting it with no sleep, and tears.
She lived on a curve in the road, in an old tar-paper shack
On the south side of the town, on the wrong side of the tracks
Sometimes on the way into town we'd say:
"Mama, can we stop and give her a ride?"
Sometimes we did but her hands flew from her side
Wild eyed, crazy Mary
Down along the road, past the Parson's place
The old blue car we used to race
Little country store with a sign tacked to the side
Said "No L-O-I-T-E-R-I-N-G allowed"
Underneath that sign always congregated quite a crowd
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
One night thunder cracked mercy backed outside her windowsill
Dreamed I was flying high above the trees, over the hills
Looked down into the house of Mary
Bare bulb blown, newspaper-covered walls, and Mary rising up above it all
Next morning on the way into town
Saw some skid marks, and followed them around
Over the curve,through the fields, into the house of Mary
That WHAT you fear the most, could meet you halfway
That WHAT you fear the most, could meet you halfway
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
Take a bottle, drink it down, pass it around
...that what you fear most could meet you halfway...
This week, too, shall pass. Until then, i need to find me some oblivion.
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