Heirs has a new track. and it's got me thinkin'

ah spring... tender guitar. finger licking good, reminding me soul-deep of that perfect session. life-changing and mind-expanding. bloated and disfigured i can't fit into my old disguise and i find myself, for a moment with nothing to hide behind. i try not to mind too much, the new me seems to be so fashionable. burritos beer and ice cream and the promise of a stomach ache but i'll be damned if my tongue cares. what does it matter to the palate what becomes of the liver or the small intestines. it's appetite so quick to surfeit, but hunger always follows fulfillment so what do my taste-buds care if I die? not shit, thats what. like the anarchists of my anatomy, compelling me to live free or not at all. so i take a swig. try not to choke on nostalgia as i'm caught off guard by an old familiar voice. twice this time i'm surprised, where do you always come from? and where do you go when you're gone? listening on repeat to that riff settles me. i see the sunlight through the cloudy sky and i remember what i loved. the heat of a remembered passion evaporates the rain as it falls onto my tanner skin, tanner than what? winter? ah spring... and you're the only one to whom i can spill but all of this is still for you. so i hold it in, try not to crack and now there seem to be people swimming in these dammed emotions. i hope they drown.... no, that's a lie. but i am still a bit annoyed with all this come and go. it's none of my buisness really, or my place to be upset, but i can't help noticing the changes we all go through, the people we become when no one is paying attention, the way that you seem to have stayed the same, and how the way that i feel about you also refuses to change. but who is this i of whom i speak? who is it that can't let you go? reading stories i wrote ages ago makes me wonder how far i've come and i realize this road i travel has no end. are we there yet? you're like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, it seems to me that we, as us, exist only in that fantasy where the beautiful arc in the sky, symbol of the marriage between rain and sun, is more than just science and refracted light. and so my dream too only exists in those moments when i deny the reality that supports my existence. but if i can find no happiness why am i alive. paradox. ah spring and it's warm nights, drawing out the wisdom of old men. words are immortality for mortals and chev'ril gloves to good wits. the crowd wears their's without fingers. being cool is so hot right now. but i like to keep my tongue warm so i can blow off some steam when my nights feel too cold. it's strange to think that i am that person i wanted to be, or those people, i should say... just without the innocence, and the love, and the plan, and the past. ugh. I'm so confused. who am i and what do i want. who am i and what have i done with kira, who am i and what will i become. tempestuous frustration rocks the body and weathers the soul. do nothing, and find yourself smashed on rocks with a personality in pieces, qualities drifting away on ocean swells, free at last and never to be seen again. try not to imagine life without yourself, if you succeed you won't even notice when you're gone. i notice though, in spite of feigned indifference. distance is the gift i refuse to admit i need but my sanity is greatful. you're the upheaval, the typhoon, the rocks on which i smash, and i'll always love the destruction like a moth loves the flame. this life and death balance, so solidly precarious, how often i find myself dipping into one or the other. how quickly i bounce back and how rarely am i stable. the passion in me is awakened by you. good or bad i know im alive. makes me bipolar, "you're driving me crazy". i forgot what i was talking about taking a moment to not cry. i long for green grass and sun to shine on it but all around me there's mud and rain. and i wish i could be alone with my aloneness but there are people everywhere and friends who worry and parents who nag and people, oh so many people who stir something up with in me making my confusion multicolored and distracting. what do i want... besides you whom i know i can't have? the song has ended. the lightning has flashed and the thunder has boomed. the sun has turned to rain which in turn is turning to snow, and life makes sense again.

happy may 5th to those of you who care, i'd rather be smoking a cigarette.