Two Things.

1. Jeff Tweedy always says it better.



Lyrics are here.

2. I found this amazing Bukowski poem on this excellent blog. Regardless of how sentimental and/or inspirational poems normally makes me cringe, this particular poem rings very true and I will make an exception for Bukowski. Recently, I heard the term post-authentic used to describe our generation and its art. What the fuck does that even mean? I want to reclaim sentimentality. I am so tired of irony. This poem is fucking beautiful.

The Laughing Heart

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

I will now take a clonazepam and drift into a void of drug-induced relaxation. Sleep without dreams. Dreams would be too painful right now. I really miss you.