Road Revelations #1
Another show well done.
We packed the floor and turned a room of strangers into close friends within 90 minutes, again.
And so another long ride home on an empty highway; street lights and pot holes guide the way like a hot wheels track assembled by a kid with down syndrome.
It is peaceful in the brackish night, the other side of Rock that is not glamorized or idolized.
….The humbling part.
The collective smell of my band will not be sold any time soon by Hugo Boss, “essence of armpit” – Autumn Bar band collection.
Usually I don’t write during these trips; I mostly just stare out the window and let my mind wander around, the same as a stray goes about his day; there’s a beginning and an end, but absolutely zero thought is really put into the stuff in the middle.
I hear the familar sounds of a modern made Japanese engine, puttering us home, respectively. It doesnt want to be loud or make a scene, unlike me.
Balance.
Balance, man.
Mother fucking balance…
The after taste of the cheapest drinks available (the ones that are on the house for bands) stain my pallet like a walmart parking lot filled with human garbage whom live in their cars. It keeps me company while everybody else sleeps, and its familiarity reminds me of worse days. It is in this moment that I revelate in optimism.
I live a fortunate life. I can do whatever I want, most of time, and for that, I am grateful.
My band is killllllller right now. I really hope we can get out of the fucking indies with this lineup. But if im destined to just do this for the next 30 odd years, fuck it, it ain’t so bad.