Another few thoughts.

Between drugs, alcohol, women, and fear, I worry I’ve become neatly useless, tidily ineffectual. It’s like I screwed up every time I ever did anything important and now I haven’t the confidence left to do anything dangerous. I think about the kids in their bands, dreams of headlining, how they practice and practice to get it all right, each note, cough, bang and growl. The courage they have is the courage of youth; I’m no longer young. Still, I find myself coming closer and closer to it, the naïve and unworried surety of action, the abiding in innocence.  

I think it’s bravery but, since nobody really knows their own mind, it could be something else.
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Posted on August 3, 2011, in Tree. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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