this picture
clearly i only feel inspired to write about supergrass and placebo... well, both are worthy and today will be no exception.
it's cold in georgia this 20th day of december. and it doesn't get much colder in this city than waiting for the train in the big concrete fortress of an east lake station having forgotten your gloves and hat on your way out the door.
but there i found myself.
the chatter chatter of my teeth almost could've drowned out my morning soundtrack, but, in fact, that soundtrack warmed me up.
impending nuptials... bad knees... family members 10 years behind me calling to tell me there's gonna be a new addition to the family in nine months... going to mjq and being surrounded by CHILDREN... they've all been making me feel a little of the old lately.
if i never considered it before, i know it now. youth is a deceptive little vixen. you have her for a good 25, 30 years and she makes you believe she's gonna be around forever. next thing you know you find yourself ready for bed at 9 pm and sitting at the bar ready to close your tab after two rounds maybe, and all you see around you is how she's flitting around the room getting it on with everybody else... it was always like that, but back in the day you didn't care cuz so were you. occassionally you see that freakazoid old guy on the dance floor who's determined to stalk her in hopes of just keeping her close, and you wonder if that's what these 21-year-olds see when they look at you.
how morbid! i realize, but that's where my brain has been.
but this morning brian molko warmed my heart with words i have heard but not heeded from him a million times over...
"we can't stop growing old."
duh? you say? well, yeah.
but it's like this:
i never felt younger and happier than i did from the days leading up to my 26th birthday to those just beyond my 27th. and in those days mr. molko was a frequent and reoccurring voice. my discovery/rediscovery of placebo and my passionate love affair with the sleeping with ghosts album + my new and embraces singledom + my new shapely and confident self led to a one-woman sexual revolution and he was one of a few flag-bearers i looked to with aspiration. i fueled a fire in me that reminded me of who i wished i had had the balls (not literally) to be when i was 19, 20, 21.
and now as quickly as it came, i start to feel it slip. and here's brian to remind me that even he's gotta face it.
and that makes me feel less alone and not a little relief.
"Farewell the ashtray girl
Angelic fruitcake
Beware this troubled world
Control your intake
Goodbye to open sores
Goodbye and furthermore
You know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes it's fated
(We) Disintegrated it
For fear of growing old
Sometimes it's fated
(We) Assassinated it
For fear of growing old
Hang on
Though we try
It's gone
Hang on
Though we try
It's gone"
it's cold in georgia this 20th day of december. and it doesn't get much colder in this city than waiting for the train in the big concrete fortress of an east lake station having forgotten your gloves and hat on your way out the door.
but there i found myself.
the chatter chatter of my teeth almost could've drowned out my morning soundtrack, but, in fact, that soundtrack warmed me up.
impending nuptials... bad knees... family members 10 years behind me calling to tell me there's gonna be a new addition to the family in nine months... going to mjq and being surrounded by CHILDREN... they've all been making me feel a little of the old lately.
if i never considered it before, i know it now. youth is a deceptive little vixen. you have her for a good 25, 30 years and she makes you believe she's gonna be around forever. next thing you know you find yourself ready for bed at 9 pm and sitting at the bar ready to close your tab after two rounds maybe, and all you see around you is how she's flitting around the room getting it on with everybody else... it was always like that, but back in the day you didn't care cuz so were you. occassionally you see that freakazoid old guy on the dance floor who's determined to stalk her in hopes of just keeping her close, and you wonder if that's what these 21-year-olds see when they look at you.
how morbid! i realize, but that's where my brain has been.
but this morning brian molko warmed my heart with words i have heard but not heeded from him a million times over...
"we can't stop growing old."
duh? you say? well, yeah.
but it's like this:
i never felt younger and happier than i did from the days leading up to my 26th birthday to those just beyond my 27th. and in those days mr. molko was a frequent and reoccurring voice. my discovery/rediscovery of placebo and my passionate love affair with the sleeping with ghosts album + my new and embraces singledom + my new shapely and confident self led to a one-woman sexual revolution and he was one of a few flag-bearers i looked to with aspiration. i fueled a fire in me that reminded me of who i wished i had had the balls (not literally) to be when i was 19, 20, 21.
and now as quickly as it came, i start to feel it slip. and here's brian to remind me that even he's gotta face it.
and that makes me feel less alone and not a little relief.
"Farewell the ashtray girl
Angelic fruitcake
Beware this troubled world
Control your intake
Goodbye to open sores
Goodbye and furthermore
You know we miss her
We miss her picture
Sometimes it's fated
(We) Disintegrated it
For fear of growing old
Sometimes it's fated
(We) Assassinated it
For fear of growing old
Hang on
Though we try
It's gone
Hang on
Though we try
It's gone"
posted by trixievw at 3:12 PM
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