Sunday, October 17, 2010

Valedictions, forbidding and foreboding

Yes, I'm sometimes angry, and, no, it's no good, but I'm 29-years old and today is Sunday, so I'm going to pack for L.A. then take a street car to a bus to a shuttle to an island in the Bay whereupon sometime after sunset my favorite band will play, perhaps in the rain, but a little rain be damned, today anyhow, by the throng, by the day, by me. Each and every thing could be, has been, and inevitably occasionally will be considerably worse. I always realize that I've been holding my breath only after I let it go when the drums come back in and everything feels suddenly wonderfully enormous.