Tuesday, March 10, 2009


On getting old

Today I imagined my death as a distant thing.
Something I know will happen
but there is still a lot of time.
I like the thought of being old.
I imagine my eyes drooping
and wrinkle lines on my forehead.
I want to have nice clothes
and antiques around the house.
I wonder what antiques will look like when I am old.
Laptops and MP3 players will by then be considered antiques.
I don’t want for that to happen,
but it will.

I want to be old and have a garden.
I want to sit next to the garden in the evenings
and read books and look around at things.
I want to have long days;
wake up early,
drink coffee in the mornings
and then spend days doing little things around the house.

I will still communicate like a child at an old age, I suppose.
Or maybe more like a drunken adult.
Only stating the embarrassingly obvious things about life
and never using any decent words.

Taking my time because
there was always too much time anyway.

Sometimes I want to close my eyes,
and then open them,
and be seventy years old.
Letting fifty years pass with the blink of the eye.


I wrote a song called "Until there is No Skin"
You can listen to a live recording of it here.
Here's the lyrics.
Until There Is No Skin

I decided to give up today.
Woke up alone in the afternoon.
I felt a new feeling today,
one that says:
“I don’t care and I give in.”

The sun felt good outside today.
My thoughts hidden somewhere inside my brain.
Feeling desperate,
like little pins poking at my skin.
Until there is no skin.

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