…so as time flies and takes my life with it I’ve been indulging my passions for dope, alcohol and Johann Sebastian Bach, with a generous serving of Rock & Roll – after all you never outgrow your need for Rock & Roll – in case there are none of these things in Hell.
For all the bad press they get - except for JS Bach – why you’d think Hell would be full of not only sinners & hellions, rockers, slackers and a motley crew of dissolutes – kindred spirits as I see it; Dante be damned, it sounds like THE place to be - but also those apparatos dos Diablo which get us sent there in the first place – like lots of reefer madness and Guinness, a CD in every modular apartment, an endless cornucopia of junk food, junk and junkies – & would it be too much to ask for a couple, well okay, a few, Sweet Young Things to help me thru my 1st several millennia as a devil?
In fact, compared to yodeling, sneezing in the canyon, singing hymns or whatever the hell they’ll be doing in Heaven, Hell seems a walk in the park; I don’t know one goddamned hymn from another but just in case Hell does not come so provided with the aforementioned tools of the devil and cleverly-disguised poisons, I’m getting a leg up on it and getting as %$#@&# up as I can now. What about it?
MORE THAN EVER…
…my tired mind races out of control; with every trembling breath I gaspingly take – especially at night when I’m alone – I feel the day of reckoning drawing closer. I sleep only as much as I have to and then I’m up and out of here, man, because I don’t want to miss what time is left. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. And I crave being with certain people, you know who you are, whom I am going to miss Big Time.
There’s no sense to make any plans, to read, to write, to do anything, but it’s impossible to not do something so I write anyway and I drink, smoke dope, eat to excess, drink – did I mention that? – and play cribbage, 200 games a week at four minutes per is a lot of cribbage, no human can beat me and this %^$#@*& computer has its electronic hands full trying to beat me too…I am not easy to keep down. And of course as per my NFTD job description I…
…babble on and babble on in a vain attempt to fill what remains of this life (and page) before I enter the vacuum ahead. I can’t say it doesn’t scare me, it does but I’m not afraid I tell you…many things on earth have terrified me much more than the thought of being dead…
Hmmmm…is that true? Let me think about that…hmmm….hmm…no, no it’s not true I guess. Truth be told I’m like that painting ‘The Scream’ – that is me full time now only so far I’ve been very private about it and have managed not to shriek in terror in public…I should give it a try some morning in the diner.
For all the bad press they get - except for JS Bach – why you’d think Hell would be full of not only sinners & hellions, rockers, slackers and a motley crew of dissolutes – kindred spirits as I see it; Dante be damned, it sounds like THE place to be - but also those apparatos dos Diablo which get us sent there in the first place – like lots of reefer madness and Guinness, a CD in every modular apartment, an endless cornucopia of junk food, junk and junkies – & would it be too much to ask for a couple, well okay, a few, Sweet Young Things to help me thru my 1st several millennia as a devil?
In fact, compared to yodeling, sneezing in the canyon, singing hymns or whatever the hell they’ll be doing in Heaven, Hell seems a walk in the park; I don’t know one goddamned hymn from another but just in case Hell does not come so provided with the aforementioned tools of the devil and cleverly-disguised poisons, I’m getting a leg up on it and getting as %$#@&# up as I can now. What about it?
MORE THAN EVER…
…my tired mind races out of control; with every trembling breath I gaspingly take – especially at night when I’m alone – I feel the day of reckoning drawing closer. I sleep only as much as I have to and then I’m up and out of here, man, because I don’t want to miss what time is left. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. And I crave being with certain people, you know who you are, whom I am going to miss Big Time.
There’s no sense to make any plans, to read, to write, to do anything, but it’s impossible to not do something so I write anyway and I drink, smoke dope, eat to excess, drink – did I mention that? – and play cribbage, 200 games a week at four minutes per is a lot of cribbage, no human can beat me and this %^$#@*& computer has its electronic hands full trying to beat me too…I am not easy to keep down. And of course as per my NFTD job description I…
…babble on and babble on in a vain attempt to fill what remains of this life (and page) before I enter the vacuum ahead. I can’t say it doesn’t scare me, it does but I’m not afraid I tell you…many things on earth have terrified me much more than the thought of being dead…
Hmmmm…is that true? Let me think about that…hmmm….hmm…no, no it’s not true I guess. Truth be told I’m like that painting ‘The Scream’ – that is me full time now only so far I’ve been very private about it and have managed not to shriek in terror in public…I should give it a try some morning in the diner.
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