CHRISTMAS EVE + Done playin santa. Done makin lists. Done channelling the christmas spirit. What i need is to be alone, else i wouldnt be. What i need is forgiveness, else i wouldnt be getting it. This world, with all its answers. Bah humbug. Celebrating the birth of the risen lord. Somebody tell me where the celebration is. I have only seen pain and fear, even in the eyes of the ones i love, and as for the ones that love me, they are doin their own thing, far from this place that i tried to love. People say im better than that, people say im worth more. To who? There is no one to serve but God and he asks me to feel this lonliness in my bones, that i might serve him better? Learn better how to love, how to be patient. Honesty she says, tired of the tricks, scared of me, scared of me like i would ever do anything but give myself over to anyone who wanted it, but i just lost everyone except my family, but they are busy being a family somewhere else, also scared of me, scared of what ive learned, what i have to say about the way they serve each other. I am tired of being confused by the words love, forever, God, peace. I have asked God in my prayers for mercy and gotn stepped on, asked for love and gottn judgement, asked for peace and gottn insanity. I still believe. I am not pretending for anyone, not asking anyone for any favors, not trying to fool anyone, been so damned honest, maybe to a fault, but no one cares to hear what i think, or they do until it doesnt suit their ideas, their comfort zone, and as far as mine? Ive tried to learn, to be.a question worth answering, tried to give what i have to give, and my humanity is brimming over, my death mask is not hiding anything, my life is not shared by anyone, even when i go out of my way to serve, and when i ask for what i want i get told im crazy, angry, scary, stupid, or worse. I got put in jail for being honest, for giving the pain i feel away, and no one wants it. Is it strange that i feel empathy for the estranged gunman, at the same time as i consider his actions an abomination? I see old men around me sad and alone, young men who are well on their way. Why do i wanf to play this game anymore? Why do i get pushed away for being transparent? Everybody has there own story to write, but who is writing mine? Me? Im lost, no resolution, no end in sight. No one has any faith in me, and it seems for good reason. Even my dad, whom ive walked all over for favors, been there when all i wanted to do was run, stuffed my wants and needs into my heart to honor his, even he stops short of giving me my due. Im tired of being the butt of everyone elses jokes, everyone elses pain, everyone elses fear. I want, just one time, not to be mistaken for a god, not to be known as a good man, but just as a man, with a good heart, and a good mind, and a strong body, worth serving the good of my family, of a girl, of a child. I had the opportunity a few times and my weakness made people run, made them fall away scared, like my wounds were staining their pretty whites, like i am a facist, racist, chauvinist, rapist, womanizer, and i am none of these things, i am just a guy, sitting alone at home on christmas eve, cause im to scared to reach out to the ones i love, cause i know they have been to hurt by the world to trust that part of themselves that could love me, that has been hurt by the world as well. Merry christmas you crazy world. Im gonna go where there is nobody there to remind me that im special, so i dont fall for the same ol cosmic joke again. I know youll get along fine without me. You always did.
you should give him back his guitar. its his, she tells me, with the imperiousness of a fire headed ice queen. what is it about? using yer nostalgic black magic to weave stories of pity and woe cause it's christmas eve again...and as for the ones that love me, they are doin their own thing, far from this place that i tried to love? targeting, soliciticing, the weakness of the compassion of the slightly slighted, jealous x, eager to play the game, reassert dominance as the Good one, Queen of Cups (and we've all played that game for u, don't make no difference what nobody says, everybody's got a hungry heart) in guise of morality? last i was heard i was sposed to keep it. last i knew u had no forward address. but we all agree on one thing, you were an excellent player, you'll change yer tune to suit the moment. well i never had no morals, no ideals, and that was one of the things you loved about me. i could have said, i threw it out the window in the path of an oncoming semi while speeding away from the worst thing that ever happened to me. I could have said I hawked it on the corner in Akron for a crack rock. I coulda said I female ejaculated in it in a sex ritual with my new lover, the instrument symbolizing you, and the piss symbolizing letting go of my anger and handing it all back. but those would have been lies. lies like that your gf stole your dog, when in fact not only did you give her away in a slick-tounged act of foolish romantic idealism, never a man of your word, but even then had you walked her more times than you smacked her upside the head she might have been yours. Booyah. Makes a great country ballad and i dont blame you for telling it, but truth is you got three more guitars and a thousand more lies where that came from, and I wont give it back, even if you were man enough to ask for it, even if you cared about it more than you cared about playing the victim. Even if the damn thing contains part of yer soul, and even if that part is as black as the veneer, black as robert johnson, i won't give it back. i will learn to play. i will make it my bitch, make it serve me, make it serve the world, turn it into light and put it to better use than you were able, like what shoulda happened all along. i might not begrudge you this way forever, but I will always hold you accountable. I'm Tom Petty, baby, and I won't back down.
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