The River Is A War
It’s called war motherfucker
I think I’m addicted to writing now. It’s all I wanna do.
I don’t know why I get so obsessive like this. Used to be only really music at this level. I guess I wrote a shit ton back in the day too.
I don’t really care about the past tho.
For me writing is like surfing
It’s just fun. To do. Now.
Once something’s down. Who really cares.? I’m not saying that in any negative way
But I’m sure it sounds negative.
I mean it more like I can really see that Lao tzu guy as myself.
Apparently he would just write a poem and put it in the river.
I love that.
He’d write and then toss things like
“Do the difficult things while they are easy and do the great things while they are small. A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.
When you are content to be simply yourself and don’t compare or compete, everybody will respect you.
When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.”
I kinda think of this blog that way. Like a river.
I don’t mean in terms of egolessness of Lau tzu
As obviously the internet is not a river in terms of absence of human eyes
And also this blog is not void of an agenda.
It actually has
a rather large agenda.
(Side note. How many other writers Miss words when writing? )
This blog has an ego
And so it’s not a river in that way
But it is a river
In the way that
I’ve arrived at a point past the concern of what others think.
I’ve gotten some great lovely texts from some people. And appreciate it. I don’t think I would have gotten to this point of not caring what people think, had I not felt that praise a little. So I’m grateful.
But here’s why I can say that m, and at the same time say I don’t care what people think.
Especially from somebody who cared very much what people thought.
I love praise that I never want to see it.
Or know about it anymore.
Praise paralyzes you.
I need this writing to be free.
I don’t want to get trapped trying to recapture a past glory
Needing any of these pages to be that good.
I need to be able to suck.
Can’t be great.
That’s how it is.
And on the flip side
It always shatters me
I can take it.
You know this. But it still shatters me.
It doesn’t break me. But it shatters me like magic glass that then unshatters
Lou had a name for my record
He didn’t call me Joseph. I didn’t mind.
I like that title. I think he saw things in me I didn’t. I think he didn’t know if I would make it. I don’t mean in the music business. I mean in life. I saw myself as stronger than I was and he saw thru that.
Joe Arthur Breakless. He was a true friend.
It’s a river cause
As I heal thru these pages
These pages heal thru you
And we wash all away
The grime and the goo
We aim for forgiveness
We aim to unscrew
Ourselves from the void
As the water pours thru
A river of silence
A river of you
A river of violence
A river that’s true
Words are like water
This water is blue
The color of truth
Giving birth to the new.
I heal thru these pages
Let them burn when it’s thru, so
The love in this world
Will find me and you.