S0LD 4N 0LD SVNR00F C1V1C...

sold an old sunroof Civic

for half a grand cash money,

then made minimum payment

SONG OF THE DAY: Astral Weeks

Van Morrison pops up as that classic soothing country soul shit, due to past memories. My youngest sibling recently sent me a Van Morrison link, which means it runs deep in our memories. When my folks split up when I was a kid, my dad moved into a trailer down the road from our house, and I stayed up there a lot, because he had his demons and I ain’t want him to be alone with them. He played a ton of Van Morrison in that period, and I remember just kicking it, door always open, small ass old trailer so the living room was basically the front yard too, sitting there while my dad, my uncle, dudes from up and down the road, all came and went. Both my folks had their issues but I love ‘em because fuck it, without them, no me. And I love me, finally.

The other day we was riding somewhere in my given-to-me Honda Civic with the slipping clutch that I can’t afford to fix, and the kids were talking about funny nicknames and one of them said “Tuna”. I told them how that was their grandfather’s nickname, how more people knew him as Tuna than Charles. Anyways, my family is fucked up but it’s okay, so is everybody else’s. Life’s been hard the past year or so, but it’s okay, so has everybody else’s. But it’s weird how some simple shit like Van Morrison just sneaks right into that eye of the storm chillness – recapturing those tender calm moments even though life’s a fucking chaotic blur most all the time. I’m not sure there’s any musician I can think of more than Van Morrison that captures those snapshots throughout the entirety of my life better. Always makes me want to leave the door open and prop the screen door with the fisherman concrete statue I got and let the bugs come in and let the man go out, all of us freely.

ST34DY H34D N0WH3R3 D33P3R...

steady head nowhere deeper

into the darkness hoping

against hope there's light one day

SONG OF THE DAY: ブート

Started vaping a few months back but that just means freestyling chaos southern gothic futuristic styles out loud while driving back and forth from the old home place in rural Fluvanny County, USA, while bumping vaporwave tracks. You see, a guy gave me a 2002 Honda Civic, which is an amazing gift, but even more so because it has a sunroof which of course has to be open at all times it’s not pouring rain, and then when you have that open mind metaphor as your vehicle for transport, and then you trigger this with retrofitted vaporwave tracks which scratch not only at memories from your early degeneracy but also at your current mind which is not nearly as self-destructive, then true ionic treatises start to pour forth from your unconscious flow zones, which you can never truly control because it is more of a tapping into that universally magnetic flow of things than you controlling anything. All of this is why I think intellectual property is bullshit because it’s just capitalist bullshit applied to the pure beauty of creation. Anyways I don’t live out there in Fluvanny no more, living in the small ol’ city, and don’t vape as much because ride the bus instead of driving, and there’s no sunroof on the bus, and also I refuse to wear headphones at this point because I’m trying to stay attuned to the world around me, not separated, but hopefully I’ll find space to vape again, soon.

SP3ND S4TVRD4Y 4FT3RN00N...

spend Saturday afternoon

vacuuming my Civic out

with old school music bumping