“How ya been livin’ Raven?”
Well, acoustic G.G. Allin really has been
resonating with me. That generally in the course of my life is not necessarily
a good sign. But also, all signs good and bad are subjective. I desire a
numbness that I can’t have, which is perfectly timed with the darkest cold
portion of the lunar calendar right before wintertime solstice. Thus, it’s all
probably natural. Come springtime, I’m gonna be poppin’ like the redbuds,
switching acoustic opioid drone G.G. Allin with some feel-good opioid slur Fat
Pat freestyles at the end of Screw tapes (now mp3 files though). But for now,
it is the internal land of melancholy, and doing kettlebell swings in the yard
plus hindu squats in the house, making the floorboards creak, developing my
Russian prisoner body in Goodwill Adidas track pants, no shirt (of course), chanting
that ol’ “il ilaha ill’Allah” over and over. What what.
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