Original date: 5-4-2005
The conversation died and she was lost to my blight. It was all dead from the word "go." No pep in the step or zip in the pip. It's like there's a fog over my tiny world. As if all those in it are waiting for something to happen, someone to come and make it better. Like an angel or a flying bear that shoots lasers out its eyes. Everything is getting stale and no one is crying, we're all just dying. We're rigged and stuck, let's go. Forget this world and not worry about where we're going, let's just go, you and I. Take me away from here. A pretty girl with a mean bass guitar. Psychotic by nature with a penchant for loving kisses on a pier. Balanced by a scared little boy with a power not his own. Very much like Fooly Cooly. But we could all use a little of that. Stretch your wings little ones, and do go play. Take the world, make it yours. It's obvious that we're not doing anything until then. I'll meet you all there if you'll have me. Maybe the explosion of sound will shake the dust off our musty eyes. Energy is the key. Thank you.