Long Grove, Iowa. Uncle, brother, Kim, Joel, Mike, Mark. And You. Rather than spell it out, I should Just give hope to the history that didn't grab me. My whole life has been the drink at three months old. From uncles to fathers in swamps and unfortunates.You never could give me that from birth. I remember that sick fold, that old relation that couldn't give me the yes in the shame that we are talking. I am listening to the noise that you are speaking, the noise that we are speaking. I am trying to remember how to type. A book I never, never read. She is going to be pissed at me. Maybe. I can't explain, what tonight has done to me. What the disgust of one Ryan brother has overtaken within the confines of my own dark vestibule.
He is short. Shorter than most. But his legs are strong.That town he was born in wasn't much of anything. A drunken father, drunken mother, driven further than the sister's brother. Military academy was the only answer. You were the Track Star, You pushed it on me. I tried to Ollie, I landed that kickflip, I had that shop sponsorship. You made me run that fucking track, That fucking high jump, I couldn't do it. I could never be you. Though, after all these years, I believe I could be you now. I could possibly be your rivalry, your name, your only claim to fame. You need me Dad. You need a man like me to show you how life could be beyond mother dying and her family turning their back on you. Maybe I am selling you short. I wasn't there. I am never there.
I want to bring the Underwood. I need her. I can't find a comfortable place. A cumphterble place. Pet peeves are all around us. I should take Nick's advice. Busk at the supermarket, sell my Haiku's by the pound, by the in and out. Would you like a line? Give me 15 minutes. I will craft you the epic tale of a lifetime. For five minutes. Why would I pretend to be asleep? What the fuck is wrong with me? I know you are coming home. Maybe you don't. Maybe I will find you on the road, a million miles away. Upon the tundra, in Alaska, in some frozen cabin. She is a good woman. Born in to a good family. Much better than yours, you should continue to remember to embrace it. Don't forget to make her the queen she deserves to be. She is our Queen. I would never pretend to actually know what I was talking about. Like how did it go? Confounded by our own lives. We're living old. Should I run? I would never tell these stories without you in them. You are me, born into this mess. I am not a man, I don't need any pants.
The music is too loud, too often. Should I leave? Finally realise. I could use a three week break. This is going to be about me being sober and writing. I am not spelling it normal, I am not spelling it deliberate. How can I be? Substantial. Yeah, I have been. I should be more. History repeats itself. In the last three hours, I have sat here self-discussing the properties of Propagandhi and Pop-Punk. And the idea that I need to quit drinking has come to mind. Has come to the realization that there are many more years of missing and regressing and repressing and...
He always said his hands didn't work fast enough to satiate the hunger that drove his bosses. He always said they might end up on you. You better make them last. He always wanted to see the light. Didn't you want him to see the light? You have fallen In and out of light.I never talked about my mother. I never talked about that street. In the next snowfall, you can save me from the what the hell did they say??? I don't hate your last name. I don't expect anything from you, as a father, as a surrogate. you never even wanted to literally be the man that didn't burn my skateboard when I came home with less than an objection. I am alone, You want me to be a man. I am failed and broken, just like you.
You left for work. My insatiable thirst for booze took over. I got some of the groceries. just enough to prove I could. I also got the beer. You had to know I would. I saw Seamus. He said his life was pathetic... I had to spend some time with him. He actually gave the Ellipsis. I never expected to be mistaken in my grammar.
As long as these fingers continue to run headlong against the keys, I shall have a place in this world.