I came back from the army and sold some records and cds because I thought they were childish. Plus I need the money. One the albums was the BAd Brains. I never understood what H.R. was saying but I enjoyed listening.
I was waiting an uninspired. I wanted my veterans check to come through. I was told it will be a long wait. Meanwhile the unreality of a corrupt mental health was taking hold. I won't go into that because it wasn't real occasionally I saw myself as on a heep of struggle.
Today I decided to sell my electric guitar. It had a wood finish. I thought it looked like Bruce Springsteen 's guitar. Delusion maybe. I saw a palm shop downtown so I decided to go there.
Walking through the doors I felt embarrassed. MY guitar was beaten up like I felt. I brought to the music section to the store and waited some more.
A man finally came. I guess he sized me up with this beaten guitar. I needed cigarettes, and couple beers would be nice.
"What do we have here?" He asked.
"It is a guitar. I would like to sell it."
He made a sound like a kitten in a freshly born litter. "EEEEEEEeee."
"It kind of looks like Bruce Sprinsteen's guitar." I said.
"Is it Bruce Springsteen's guitar?" He asked
I thought he was messing with me.
"No." I whispered feeling his interest fading away.
"Maybe if you restore..."
I took the guitar back from him in mid sentence. I need money now.
I walked across the street to where my purple pickup truck was. I noticed a dumpster in back so went there with my beatup soul.
I held my guitar like a baseball bat. It was on my shoulder. Then with one rageful angry distressing motion hit it against the asphalt. But it didn't break. I tried a few more times yet still it didn't break so I threw all of it in the dumpster along with the dreams and money that rock stars make.
I had a few cigarettes left but no money for beer, and the gas light was on in my truck.
My hands were slightly bruised from the beating again. I drove to my parents house where I was staying.
This was only a temporary stop in life. For some odd reason I felt ready for anything. I cut my losses and felt more like a man, of course we all can lose a little more.
I was waiting an uninspired. I wanted my veterans check to come through. I was told it will be a long wait. Meanwhile the unreality of a corrupt mental health was taking hold. I won't go into that because it wasn't real occasionally I saw myself as on a heep of struggle.
Today I decided to sell my electric guitar. It had a wood finish. I thought it looked like Bruce Springsteen 's guitar. Delusion maybe. I saw a palm shop downtown so I decided to go there.
Walking through the doors I felt embarrassed. MY guitar was beaten up like I felt. I brought to the music section to the store and waited some more.
A man finally came. I guess he sized me up with this beaten guitar. I needed cigarettes, and couple beers would be nice.
"What do we have here?" He asked.
"It is a guitar. I would like to sell it."
He made a sound like a kitten in a freshly born litter. "EEEEEEEeee."
"It kind of looks like Bruce Sprinsteen's guitar." I said.
"Is it Bruce Springsteen's guitar?" He asked
I thought he was messing with me.
"No." I whispered feeling his interest fading away.
"Maybe if you restore..."
I took the guitar back from him in mid sentence. I need money now.
I walked across the street to where my purple pickup truck was. I noticed a dumpster in back so went there with my beatup soul.
I held my guitar like a baseball bat. It was on my shoulder. Then with one rageful angry distressing motion hit it against the asphalt. But it didn't break. I tried a few more times yet still it didn't break so I threw all of it in the dumpster along with the dreams and money that rock stars make.
I had a few cigarettes left but no money for beer, and the gas light was on in my truck.
My hands were slightly bruised from the beating again. I drove to my parents house where I was staying.
This was only a temporary stop in life. For some odd reason I felt ready for anything. I cut my losses and felt more like a man, of course we all can lose a little more.
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