Tom Waits – Night On Earth

It’s March 16th and I’m at home! This makes me sad, sad enough to demonstrate using asterisks: *cry* OKAY I’M NOT REALLY CRYING I LIED AND WORST OF ALL I LIED ON THE INTERNET.

Sometimes I’d say the wrong thing and they’d cry and the tears wouldn’t mean “I’m sad,” they really meant “I was right. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you with that.” And it’s those memories that I can’t handle and those represent the times I wish the strongest I could have back. Great artists have mastered the art of not revealing all of their personal crises in their first book. Sister died in a car accident when you were nine? That’s at least three books. One about fear of cars, one about an only child who wonders what having an older sister would be like, and one about loss. Two about loss, if you were good. And we’re just getting started on what a great artist could make from that vision. But regret of all those disappointed “I was right. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you with that” moments is a leitmotif that can run into any number of works provided it’s treated well though it can only be explicitly stated once. So let me state it now in this unimportant discourse so I can reuse it sometime or many sometimes. Let the record show that I’ve never felt the same disappointment towards any girl even though all of those I’ve been in real relationships with have given me the opposite at some point. Such vague regrets. But I know to what incident in particular I’m referring. Hopefully I can write it out, because it’s more than somewhat wrong and certainly unfair to the ghosts of girlfriends past, present, and future.

I hope you liked those excerpts from my old texts folder, likely written many years ago! You know, movie soundtracks sound like video game music, so let’s imagine this is all the sound of Tom Waits walking through the world in various places, except for that one nice “Good Old World” song.

It was a gray morning in the miserable desert. We weren’t screaming or crying.  Streetlights shone overhead as if they had something to say, something powerful and meaningful, but they hadn’t the time or the power. This description will be meaningless.
I am a dreamer today. Nothing wrong with a little dreaming, right? I have a vision of a future that I know is unlikely but I can’t make myself accept as impossible. In this future there is no purity, no ignorance, no unhappiness. We all live with society much the same but we don’t hurt each other intentionally. We aren’t all drug users, though. We’re intelligent people who choose to draw the line. We’re scientists, writers, veterinarians, accountants, all the normal jobs. People are just as corrupt, but we’re only corrupt in fighting for money, and somehow we don’t kill for it, we just make other people poorer – but not to the point of starvation and homelessness. The government cares for the unlucky. We all feel for the unlucky. There’s no absolute morality, only the belief that we all need each other.

Everyone is free to believe what they wish, and everyone’s equally free to try to convince everyone else to belief likewise. Nothing capable of being happy is killed under our care until its age causes enough pain that that capability is taken away. Then we’re free to kill and wear it. People can live if they’re the survivor type, they can die if they’re the proud type. Teenagers don’t need to be depressed at the rape of the world, and thus only feel the need to write bad poetry at things they really will outgrow, not just deal with and live in spite of.

Yes, I do consider this a review. I think it sums up this soundtrack album quite well.

This is the best photo I have of you.

You are the most beautiful person.

We fell in love and we were married.

I saw you on the street and you saw me.

I should have died with you.

I’m sorry. Thank you.



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