Saturday, April 23, 2005

"I No Longer Know How to Pray"

Well, to say things have reached a rough spot is too much of an understatement.

Here's the 411.

Adam and I are fighting. Again. Always. It's really agitating. Ahhhhhhh!

OK, I'm over the angst.

So I'm gonna blur through some details because I don't much feel like sharing them, but to make a long story really really short, so much for true love and delusions of grandeur.

Yeah. Everything is shit. I feel so alone even when I'm in a room full of people. It's not good.

I've hit a hard depression this week, and I think it's largely because I'm realizing how shitty things are.

Weird! I'm listening to my favorite Counting Crows song ever - "August and Everything After" - and it's on some kind of loop where it faded into itself. Craziness. And, no, I'm not on painkillers.

OK, so when I'm depressed (read - NOW), I listen to Counting Crows. So here's my favorite song lyrics.

"August and Everything After"

They’re wakin’ up Maria
‘cause everybody else has got some place to go
She makes a little motion with her head,
rolls over, and says she’s gonna sleep for a couple minutes more
I said I’m sorry to Maria
for all the cold-hearted things that I have done
I said I’m sorry by now at least once
to just about everyone

She says I’ve forgotten what I’m supposed to do today
And it slips my mind what I’m supposed to say
We’re getting older and older and older
and always a little further out of the way
You look into her eyes
and it’s more than your heart will allow
And August and everything after
you get a little less than you expected somehow

Well I stumbled into Washington Square
just as the sun began to rise
And I laid down on the lawn of the cathedral
and laid down and the shadow of St. Mary’s in the sky
And I’m just one of these late model children
waiting for the king
But there ain’t no sign of Elvis in San Francisco
it’s just me and I’m playin’ this rock and roll thing

She wants to be just like me
And I want every damn thing I can see
You know one day you’re Daddy’s little angel
The next day you’re everything he wanted you to be
They dress you up in white satin
and they give you your very own pair of wings
In August and everything after
I’m after everything
I said yeah yeah yeah yeah

Well you got your reservations
and you got your seven-million dollar home
You got the number of some girl in New York City
who’s always wide awake
so you never spend the night alone
You got a nasty little habit
of peekin’ down the shirts of all the little girls
as they pass you by
And I wonder when it all catches up to you
and they finally take you down–
are you gonna cry?

Well I already got my disease
So take your fuckin’ filthy hands off of me
Yeah well I hope you weren’t expecting to be crucified–
The best that they can do
is to hang you from the nearest tree
It’s midnight in San Francisco
and I’m waiting here for Jesus on my knees
And August and everything after
I want somebody else to bleed for me
I said yeah yeah yeah

They came down from North Dakota
with confidence in the military mind
And now everyone I know is turning showgirl
and dancing with their shirt off
in some Las Vegas hotel line

So I’m going’ to New York City
'Cause it got a little sleazy here for me
When I find myself alone, you know I'm never goin' home
To make the changes, the changes that we need
But I no longer know how to pray
I live in dog town and it’s a Dalmatian parade
And I, I change my spots over and over
but they never seem to fade away
I am the last remaining Indian
looking for the place where the buffalo roam
In August and everything after
man them buffalo ain’t never comin’ home
And I said in August and everything after
man them buffalo ain’t never comin’ home
I said oh yeah yeah yeah

3 comments:

Robert Curtis said...

I'll only do this once (hopefully) and only do this drunk (definately).
I have designated you the object of my discontent, and this is for two reasons. The first is that you are the only person stupid enough to actually respond more than once to a FACEBOOK THAT DESPISES YOUR PAPER. The second is that after that black woman tried to be Greek Life Coridinator, I now know who you are (you're the blonde chick not the black haired'un), you actually seem like you have a lil' bit of sense. Don't run TOO far with that. But because you have become my object of disconent, you therefore are heretofore my enemy. That's just how it goes. Wait 'til I find out how to print papers, then you and your staff will be screwed. As it turns out, most of the people on campus are liberals, but liberals have this bad habit of A) not going to the polls and B) Being complete idiots such as Moore or John Kerry(it took him 6 months to come up with a response to the 86 million line) or C) anyone in Hollywood who happens to open up their parrot mouth and D) Not giving a shit about the news because they're too cool for it (hey, RIM majors will be RIM majors). However, I consider you a semi-worthy adversary and therefore respect your position, I look forward to any challenge and I consider this to be a mild one once I get my hands on some alumni cash, but I do look forward to verbal bouts because unlike Peter Griffen, I will not slug you.
Good Luck,
-Robert F. Curtis

Robert Fucking Curtis said...

Also, H'vlle sucks ass, I only wish I was cool enough to hang out in the Blockbuster parking lot because the Park's parking lot is too far above me. And just for the record, your town is full of douches. I have been involoved in many a H'ville ass kicking. The best of those was of star linebacker Malcowitz (or however you spell that fucked up name). I only mention it b/c it was famous two years later, and still as funny. God I hate that town.

annonymoussetn said...

Robert Curtis - you, sir, are an ass.

I figured a Sig Ep with no job would have plenty of time to figure out how to print a newspaper. But since you seem to be a little slow on the draw, here's a start, Slick.

First, get a copy editor to correct your atrocious grammar. Have you taken English 1010? Is that why you're on academic probation? You wouldn't want to embarrass yourself every time your rag comes out, would you? I know good country folks like yourself from White House who make drunken posts at 7:25 in the morning don't care too much for those snooty MLA guidelines, but other people do.

And in the interest of keeping the peace I have referred your name to the Hendersonville Police Department's Unsolved Crimes division as well as to the Department of Homeland Security. DHS might be busy, but I can assure you the HPD has nothing better to do besides write traffic tickets and ensure you spend a few months playing Grabby Knees and singing "Ave Maria" in the Sumner County Jail showers.

I would highly recommend cutting back on the drinking, too. Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son. You've already got two out of three going for you.