I just finished listening to Godzilla by The Creatures. It was a breath of fresh air. What great drums. Then, I found out it was released twelve years ago. This was right before Pre-World’s end. Pre-World is a sobriquetic way of referring to my psychotic break. This reality now is, of course, Post-World, but I don’t want to call it that, cause that sounds kinda final. Anyway. Twelve years ago, right? Twelve damn years old.
Suddenly I heard in that song the lost potential, the lost energy, the lost cockiness. I heard my lost youth.
And I’m sitting here crying as I’m typing this. And as I’m snuffling because I’m too ass-glued to this chair to get a tissue, I realize, wait, WHY AM I BITCHING?
“The lost potential..”
To what? To take a life path where you never got to meet the Best Person Ever? To take a life path where you never got to be as awake as you are now?
“The lost energy, the lost this, the lost that…”
1. Put your shit up and you won’t lose it.
2. Make one of those flyers with the little strips you can tear off that have your phone number on them and post them around town with a recent picture of the energy.
3. You heard your lost youth? Was it howling like a lonely dog while standing on a moor under a dark grey sky?
4. Quit yer bitchin’ and do stuff.
Be grateful, girl. Be grateful for every last drop of whatever the fuck you get. The past has passed, that’s why they call it the past. Or something. Whatever. It sounds really, really good when you’re high. Anyway. Fuck the past. What has it done for you lately?
And cripes, enjoy the fucking song, they didn’t write it to make you cry. It’s about Godzilla, for fuck’s sake.