God. The feeling of no contact. It fucking sucks. God damn does it fucking suck.
And I didn't post this when I wrote it why?
There’s just always this white noise in the background of everything you do.
So, I went to the show. And again. It was fucking awesome. The opening “band” was just Amigo the Devil which is comprised of a single dude, Danny Kiranos. Holy cursed fuck. I was not prepared for that level of musicianship from a single dude with a single acoustic guitar and his banjo. You don’t typically open a psychobilly show with acoustic folk music. He freaking smashed it and turned out to have a super awesome disposition when I went and bought his first record from him. Cheerful as hell despite the morbidly dark lyrics and deliciously ethereal melodies of his songs. (See “Perfect Wife”) https://youtu.be/5tCZTvb2XqI
At the end of a relationship not only do we have to let go of the person, we have to let the memories of them fade as well. We have to find new stories to tell. We have to have new adventures to old places. We have to overwrite the memories of that girlfriend, that husband, that bestfriend, that date that ended so terribly. But worst of all, we have to stop telling the stories you once held so tightly that the picture frames have shattered leaving your bloody hands cradling broken glass.
Sometimes there isn’t a getting it right. Sometimes shit is just fucked and there’s nothing you can do to change it. You can’t force someone to love you. You can’t force someone to see you. You can’t force anyone to do anything that’s worth having them do.
One thing I’ve come to learn over the last year is that sometimes it’s better to walk away from a fire rather than waiting for the flame to die anymore than letting it burn you. I’ve been through both. And I’m exhausted. I don’t have the fight for it anymore.
Insomniac Theater
What’s more terrifying: the familiar demons in your head?
Or the unknown one under the bed?