So, I was thinking. I have only two months of school life left. The exams are all approaching soon. And this result has quite an impact on deciding my future. So, maybe I should consider staying away from some things for a while-From Facebook to Youtube, and maybe Prose.

I mean, for almost a month, I was not able to finish a single post. And I don't think I really would be able to do that in the coming months too. So, maybe instead of attempting and failing in multitasking, again and again, I think I should focus on one task right now. And considering the current circumstances, the top priority should be learning, of course. So, this is almost like a short goodbye.

I mean, I would come back, of course. This place is now a part of my life. I am not leaving this place (At least not anytime soon. You see, life can be unpredictable ^-^). So, I might not be around here for a while. I might be busy devouring textbooks. So, I will miss you guys. But I will be back soon ^-^

PS: And the day I return, I am announcing my arrival by taking down this post, lol. It seems far too emotional for my type ^-^ So until someday halfway April, keep this place cheerful, won't ya ^-^

Larry McMurtry probably ought to be considered a national treasure. He’s written a hell of a canon of the American West, like almost a hundred books, and The American West at its most raw, is America at its most honest. My own father is not a man of fiction but he loves Lonesome Dove and holds it dear to his heart.

General Custer and Crazy Horse have been written about so many times it’s annoying, even asinine, commonplace and cliché; but for my money, McMurtry did it the best, he’s provided us with the end-all-be-all biography of each man.

And he wrote one of the finest Texan coming of age stories of all time--with a father who’s hard on those he loves because he loves them, a wildcard and free willing and night-city seeking step-son, and finally the youngest son, the story’s protagonist who deals with existential crisis of this life as often as he has to deal with material issues and hard drama between his father and older brother--in his debut play, “Horseman, Pass By.” I’m not a man who cries, nor a man who easily relates to much, but I remember reading that play in high school and I tried but could not help myself from my eyes swelling up with salt water. I felt that story, big time.

But this post is about one song written by McMurtry’s son. And it’s not a great song, and I can’t explain why I love it. And I’ve tried listening to more music by James McMurtry and just don’t dig it.

I think I like this particular song because I can relate to mediocrity. The song is less than spectacular, and James McMurtry’s career is also well less than stellar, and I believe this song captures that essence pretty damn perfectly. Its opening line I especially appreciate so much that it makes me smile and chuckle to myself every time I hear it, “Sick of this small town bull shit, I’m not staying in school.” Then later on, it’s simple but it’s pure and true: “Meanwhile I got a gram [of weed most likely, maybe coke] and a real good ride [first time buying a car most likely] / And don’t you know I hurt way down inside.” I feel that, big time. It’s not that good a song at all, but it so easily portrays a certain struggle that I relate to so well.

It’s written by a man who must live in the shadow of his acclaimed father. It’s a difficult realm to live in. The song, called, “Just Us Kids” enunciates that certain pain and heartache, the misery and rare good-time feeling of forgetting that one might have to live up to some idea, that one might just have fun for a minute, that one might be themselves and that it might be okay, that even God might understand and might even appreciate it.

https://youtu.be/PHMEmszc13o

he was a doctor

Goddammit, they were looking at

a doctor

He came into the casino in a suit,

the same suit every day and night

dark gray

shiny with grease around the

elbows and lower back

smelly

patched up in places

he kinda forgot what it was like to be

sober

and lately he kinda forgot what

it was like to win at the slot machines

he forgot how to perform surgery

how to diagnose a patient

forgot what the company of a woman felt like

forgot what love was

he was a machine that consumed cheap

but strong alcohol

Rubbing alcohol filtered through bread

That stuff was 70% alcohol

his liver knew it

"Ah, pleaseeee, for the love of God, don't

make me work with this

stuff again," he would scream while

playing at the slot machine

and the bouncer would walk up to him

and say, "Hey, hey, doc. Everything all right, man?"

"Oh, sorry. That was my liver shouting

through my mouth. He's a pussy."

They say companies that deliver food

get very suspicious when their

regular customers,

the people who order every day,

stop ordering all of a sudden

They even check on them

Well, we don't deliver food

but we got really concerned when

our favorite doctor stopped

showing up

all of a sudden

Maybe our managers would've checked

up on him but

there was no phone to call

and no door to knock on

Still, one of our boys went to the nearby

park and asked the homeless men around

for our favorite doctor

and the man handed him a

newspaper

Shit,

it wasn't even on the front page

there was some political shit on the

front page

Nobody gave a damn about that article

The real thing was a few pages

after, not even colored

HOMELESS MAN DIES AFTER TRYING TO

PERFORM SURGERY ON HIMSELF

IN PUBLIC RESTROOM

That was a doctor with guts

Guts pouring out of him

straight into the sink

and another cluster found in the toilet

We framed the article and pasted

it on a board in the back room

of the casino

our very own patron saint

when your melon

honeydew lips

which are coated

with the sweet warmth of a fire

kiss my tender, longing tulip lips,

my blossomed reddish heart

shards into pieces

skipping heartbeats

like Spring dandelions

that’s blown away

into the wild wind.

MidnightInk 11-14-2020

i listen to red hot chili peppers

but anthony kiedis is one of epstein’s

instead of blue and red

our sides are attacker and victim

hands up skirts and grabbing

industry men and women

try to imagine it, i never could

money means consent

in the big fantastic hollywood

She should've ran

From that monster of a man

Before they grew

Before they knew

She did not

Her happiness would soon rot

The love was a curse

Written in the stars of this universe

Once she ran with two infants in her hand

But somehow returned to this miserable land

He promised to change

Yet continued his monstrous rage

His shadow was feared

When seen under the door everyone reared

The roars at night were loud

Even the horrifying one's that made no sound

Years went by

And all three would cry

When the last was here

Even she would fear

It was too late to run

Her options were none

The oldest had dreams

One could have foreseen

The one in between had changed

From being caged

The infant needed care

In this world that was unfair

She stayed in the hell of a home

Took the torture as her own

All his toxic would poison her

All four were sinking further

The mother should have ran

Beforehand, out of that land

From that monster

Who was no longer a man

-A story stuck on pause

Fingers begin to slowly move around the left side of her face—

She twitches, eyes squeezed tightly in irritation-

‘Ah!’ She exclaims. Then smiles as she hears the voice in a hushed tone.

A voice that reminds her of the taste of honey, a golden syrup like sound. Huh, this voice she’s heard before.

She gradually makes her way out of bed.

Again, the voice speaks in a hushed tone. She can not stop herself from taking hold of a blade.

The blade is in one hand which nearly reaches her chest. Another voice cries out like an explosion, telling her to stop what she’s about to do.

Her hands tremble. She lets the blade drop to the floor with a clang.

Tears stream down her face. It’s not easy for her to shut out the voices. She would have to try to do so, & harder next time.

02/09/2020

Wednesday (All Rights Reserved)

The only thing a tearless and scarred heart can do now is revolt, for the rivers are too dry for the eyes to cry, and the helpless shoulders are So tired of schlepping heavy weights for more than 400 years.

Midnightink 6-1-20

I'll wager that you think you know

the tale of young Pinocchio,

a mar'ionette whose nose sprouts growth-

specifically when lies are told.

He's boist'rous, disobedient

and finds the cricket tedious;

a hammer flies- death hideous-

and conscience becomes vitreous.

The Land of Toys and idleness

draw him and his friend, Candlewick;

indulgence leads to ears that prick,

some hees and haws, and donkey kicks.

Escaping peril, he must flee;

the puppet swims straight out to sea,

where he becomes a whale's small meal-

and then both dad and son break free.

I've lied but once- the rest is truth.

So, now decide; it's up to you.

Which stanza does your youth dispute?

Is it two, or three, or four you choose?

Relationship is a construct

It cannot define, it only confines

We seek understanding so we label substance

All while failing to realize

True love cannot be captured by our words of attempted reasoning

Connection was simply ignited before language

You over-rate the one

By falling for every-one

Convinced that they’re A1 so they’re the one

But they’re just a one

For another broken heart

Together is,

Colliding souls, forming unison

Through sluggish ways of days

Through the aches of pains

Through the midst of bliss

Through the millions

Of harmless realizations

That they’re human too

Seeing them at their worst,

Only strengthening your perception of their perfection

Together is this.

And see, so many, they split

Then realize that they were never together

Because together was only their shared fantasy

So they danced around, striking a fragile connection of what-if

Before falling back into reality’s arms

Note: A1 is used by its definiton of: very good or well; excellent

(Just a little wordplay)