Maybe the best part of knowing that I don't really belong here is that I'm aware that it's me, not them. Outsiders pay a price for the life that they live and the currency is loneliness. Oh, I don't feel sorry for myself. Not at the moment, anyway. Everybody's lonely. Lotsa' folks just don't realize it.
Nobody was ever waiting for me to make something of myself. I am something.
Most of the time I try to look through windows and walk through doors. I'm struggling to figure out whether life is just a series of random events or if, maybe, I just have a random routine. Is there any such thing as a random routine?
All the sorrow in the world is within each and every one of us. Fortunately, all the joy is, too. If you can learn to control your memories, you can choose joy over sorrow most of the time. Most of the time.
The ghosts visit regularly, if not frequently, but the space people never show up. Heck, I've waited this long.
Who decides what's holy? Asking for a friend, of course. I've reached a point in this life where I see no reason to take anything very seriously. Don't suppose I really ever have. Oh, I worry about the suffering that I see around me. I try, these days, to do what I can, when I can, to help and stay away from sorrow.
Joy runs in my veins and I do what I can to share it.
"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God."
Doesn't seem to need much further interpretation, does it?
If you can figure out some way to make peace as profitable as war, maybe we'll get somewhere. Is it naive of me to suggest that we spend the money on feeding the hungry, putting roofs over the heads of the homeless? What if our military budget went to education? Environmental protection? Universal health care?
Funny thing is, I'm an optimist. Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
Not every revolutionary is an artist. Not every artist is a revolutionary. Rock'n'roll was at the forefront of changing the world. My world. We fought war, bigotry, homelessness, discrimination. We stood up for minorities, women, animals and the environment. Music was our weapon.
Now I try to make sense of our history.
Rock'n'roll is out of fashion while folks in red caps manufactured in China chant, "Send her back! Send her back!" Yeah, bigotry's back in fashion.
When I was a kid, decent folks tried to take care of hoboes. Now, with homelessness rampant in the country, we pass laws making it illegal to give food to starving people. We lock up children and pay "private enterprise" seven hundred and fifty dollars a day to guard them.
I see no reason to list our shortcomings, as I see them. You probably have your own list.
Rock'n'roll stars didn't invent activism. Bob Dylan wanted to be Little Richard before he settled on Woody Guthrie. Woody never sold many records, never made much money. He was a revolutionary. His occupation was world-changer.
There are kids out there with guitars who aren't selling any records. Not trending on YouTube. They know what their job is.
If we're gonna save the world, we better get busy. It's gettin' hot in here.
Is there any such thing as too sad? Too sensitive?
Asking for a friend.
No, really. I'm asking for a friend. I've been watching Mr. Rogers clips. I probably have enough sea glass. Too many guitars. Too much stuff, in general. You can never have too many friends, though.
