rogerdr (rogerdr) wrote,

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12 inch rule

I just got your CD today and had a little laugh about it because my mom thinks it sounds "even more depressing than your other music." Considering the subject matter that's very ironic, but then she was raised on big band music and detroit's 'wall of sound' so my stuff must sound extraterrestrial by comparison. At any rate, I don't think it's depressing. You've got a great voice-like a thin, wispy candle that inexplicably fills the whole room with flowers. Strange how I can surf for days looking for something someone somehow new (when it's cold out; otherwise I'm with my friends tooling around getting in and out of trouble) yet, as soon as I stop looking, there you are. Or maybe it's not so strange-know how you sometimes forget a word a name a place that's right on the tip of your tongue? You try and try but you're dry so you give up an hour a day a week and then ZAZEN there it is? That was you this time. Next time it might be that guy in Scooners who sits up at the bar giving out flyers to his one-man shows where nobody goes. I'll go. You never know. Later tonight I'll be with Adrian Adam Jake Josh Pete Dave Don Lucy Chris the other Dave the Fuzzy guys Pedro Miguel all separate all mixed up all together the Tribe; It's monday so no crowds few Frogs a punk or two that homeless kid on the skateboard the Pub bartender/college student (explosive combination). My people. People online keep saying there's no difference IRL is an insult we're all real we're all just as important-but there is a difference. My friends IRL carry me up/down stairs through doors across broken ground buy me drinks food presents and won't take no for an answer (though I'm usually the one with more money). They hug me pick up what I drop braid my hair. They touch me in ways you can't. You touch me in ways they can't. There is a difference-every friendship is different. Shouldn't they be? You're certainly different. At first you were words scrawled unevenly (like these) LJ words from inside painted upon the whitewashed walls of the wwworld. Then I saw your face your eyes you are different you know the masks can't hide you the money doesn't blind you keep reading my friend because I know you know (Coelho knows) the pyramids will laugh at you but you laugh back. Then I heard your voice your fingers on the keys your please don't mute your heart I sighed relief you're another genuine another loving one another not alone. In front of the camera in back of it talk to the club kids talk to the ones waiting for the subway talk to your bruised legs talk to God talk to me. I won't be here forever I won't be breaking through your 12 inch rule I can't hear your heavenly choir I may not get there with you but I hear you. Keep talking to me keep looking through the lenses keep singing keep turning/pushing down the keys keep going outside keep opening up keep talking to me. I hear you.
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