Music:crown me king feat. frank black- broken face
amidst a jag of sobriety predicated on jenny's sore through, which is a bad place honesty. i'm dishonest by my nature; given to it out of reflex & instinct. though the term is perhaps a little strong; while i'm charmed by lying, especially out-rageous ones, it isn't the only method of obfuscation at hand. omission, exageration, mis-direction; all the old tools of deceit, all the old smoke & mirrors. without inebriation to take that edge off, i'm inclined to pull a fast one. file away everything under lock & key; because of course, you must realize, it is all very much beside the point. m is the cromlech that monoliths above the ebb & flow of blood-dimmed tides. the swirling meteorology of mordicai, if you will. which is not to say i have been keeping things, per se, from prying eyes. just that i have been tabulating without recording, observing without hanging the poetry on a nail.