Friday, November 3, 2017




            I'm a mystic, a guy involved with the spiritual: don't confuse me with those religious fools!

            I'm trying to help this (fucked-up) therapist with a major opiate withdrawal happening. I'm looking at the sky. It's 7:00 AM. Then it's 8:00AM. Now it's 9:30... the sky is still dark. WTF?
          Now I realize it's PM not AM... If this is the state of my organization --- how can I presume to advise anyone.

             We think of sex... then we think of the Spirit at a wholly different time. Don't we know these so-called extremes are part of the same energy?

        If you were to know how many heroin withdrawals I've been through, I suspect you'd consider me a moron.
         Anyway, I know a hell of a lot about drugs and their results --- doesn't matter what time it is.

        I hope she hasn't gone into the bathroom to slice up.

        None of us, however brave we are, can fight depression or loneliness.

        I've been accused of writing exceedingly mournful ballads... the singing in a bar rule is - don't play more than 2 in a row. Or half the audience will edge off to the bathrooms to slice up.

      A joke... and  partially true .I REALLY can't sing more than 2 of my ballads on stage -
the bartenders told me that.

       One night I just sang one ballad in Newfoundland. A fiddle player  and a very adept accordion player joined the band...
      They kept giving me shots of this clear white liquid which I soon discover was moonshine.. called, Newfie Screeh! Not the stuff U buy in the liquor stores... this stuff is three times stronger.

      So I launch into one of my beautiful but mournful ballads, and then the fiddle joined in
I found the fiddle moving.
      Then the acordion came in atop the bass,. drums and me. I was more moved. I had 7 shot glasses of the original screech lined up on the top of my amplifier right behind me. Rapidly, in quick succession, I poured 3 of these shot glasses down my throat.
             Then quickly I drank sips of water ...'cause my head was getting hot. And my chest and belly, too --- the hot flash was moving south in my body with speed and ease.
             After the instrumental solo, I started singing the next verse. The whole fish-cleaning parlour was getting brighter and more clear.
              The verses of the song were driving me to emotion...

              "When I saw you
                 Your sorrow in your hand
                   Afraid to turn your hear
                    And afraid to stand

               When I saw you
                On a mountain of sand
                   In a huge hour glass
                     And the sand had passed through...

I started weeping. Tears flowing down my face. I was a trifle embarrassed - then I looked down at the audience... They were crying too - - all of them.

        You can't sum this stuff up, no matter how you try. Life is not meant to be assessed logically.
         One century soon western philosophers will figure this out.
         And maybe... start to relax.
          Music beats philosophy every day of the week. Try some dancing if you want to cleanse your soul.


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