SONG OF THE DAY: My Home Among The Hills

The calm and peaceful nature of a Christmas Day is always one of the most pleasant to be creeping around the train yard, even at the edge of drug-addled places. Everything slows down. Sunday mornings can be like that, too. I remember living in Richmond in the ‘90s, when it was always in the top 2 or 3 of murder capitals in America, and on Sunday mornings, you could still ride pretty much anywhere in the city without danger, because there was just a universal truce briefly. Christmas is like a larger version of that. I wish we could have days like that once a month, where everything just shut down, and it was known that no stores were going to be open at all, not even gas stations, and you just didn’t do shit but chill. That whole “peace on Earth” concept is way closer to “you gots to chill” than most folks are able to realize. We really do gots to chill.

SONG OF THE DAY: Sittin' On Top of the World

I sing this in my head about twice a day. With flair.

SONG OF THE DAY: Pot of Gold

Just vibing man, just vibing. I could rock shit like this all day. Ordered this 45 from a dude in California but it never showed up, I guess the media mail got lost. I was being chill about it, because I know he does a lot of shit where he's at. The Power of Lounge worked, because the errant media mail package showed back up with him and he mailed the shit again. Good shit happens for those who lounge.

SONG OF THE DAY: It's A Mean World

the blues have been gentrified

I know you’ve seen it, oldboys noodling on their guitar

at the local microbreweries Saturday afternoon

blues are universal, struggle is universal

nobody owns that, our poison culture creates it

constantly endlessly relentlessly

but goddammit please be real

about it

anyways

Sunday afternoon rainy and dreary

and life remains life remains real

a struggle, oftentimes poisoned

but still beautiful as fuck

always potentially beautiful

0FT3N BVR13D B3N34TH L1F3'S...

often buried beneath life's

constant accumulations,

but tomorrow's still coming

SONG OF THE DAY: Blind Man

Pretending I am smart, that my mind creates powerful realities, which I guess I am and it does, but ultimately that means nothing. Meritocracy is false, and for every wall men build, the honeysuckle and kudzu pulls another one back into the Earth. I am more aware than ever, yet just as blind as always. I’ve gotten to the point I don’t want to try at night, too tired and exhausted, no respite in sight, just cut it all off and sit there in the purple christmas lights listening to scratchy old albums, doing nothing, no devices no words no art, just blank expressionless absorption of time, waiting for some sort of conclusion which will never come.