It was a
hard time, something like a hard life, so I´m glad it´s gone. I had to see those faces many times, in many
forms, in the streets and in my mind. They were all a part of me, and I felt
guilty, I felt shamed and I felt cursed.
But time passes on, and sooner or later you make your choice.
It was
never a clean shot; it can hardly be like that, there´s always a lot to lose. I guess clean shots are for little problems
or for bigger men, I really don´t know.
So here
I am, with my drink, in a far off land. There is the night with his sky full of
stars, there are the drunks, laughing to their sad pathetic lives, howling at
the desert for all that they had lost, for all the blame they try to drop.
The bus
driver arrives tomorrow and I got nothing better to do. I didn´t rent a room
couse I can´t get any sleep. The wine is
really cheap or everybody is really poor, any way I take another drink, try to
keep up, try to feel like them for a little while. I got a girl waiting, but I guess I´ll never
come back. It´s easy to be a bum when
you got the money for it, It´s easy to run away and never come back. Logically
I must be running from the past, but I also feel I´m running from the future,
from all that I could be if I had enough balls, enough guts.
But
again here I am, with my only friends, strangers in bar. I like to think of
them as cowards, I like to feel like I am with my kind. So I can drink to them,
and they to me, until the unconscious vibrations of this lonesome night, make
us disappear from the fear and from the truth.
Eight
weeks being driven and trying not to think. I saw many horizons, and I met some
people. I lie a little, I tell a little truth, I share some of my believes and
I present myself as a good man. I know
at the end of the day or the road, they are gonna be gone, and sometimes that
make me think of home. But I guess I´ll
ride on, I´m feeling that my shadow is getting near, and I gotta catch the next
train, the next bus; gotta escape to another town.
The
machine is burning the oil, the engine is moving the wheels, the cows and the
ships stay still as I pass by. And I pop
a pill, and I drink some more, and I get some sleep, to cover the shame and the
hole. For here it is a lonesome heart, for here it is a doomed mind.
