Crazy.

He was a client. Just a client.

Why am I sitting here, crying over the news of his sudden death? Why did he have to die while vacationing with his bride? Why did he have to die at all?

And the other? He was my sister-in-law’s father.

I knew him better, but that fact didn’t save his life. Maybe he’s spending time with dad now, maybe not.

Am I crazy for crying?

She’s a client as well.

One who’s been holding onto a very dark secret for far too many years. A secret she’s no longer willing to live with. A secret she shared with me. Again, impotent tears roam my pallid face.

And the one I’m supposed to be protecting?

Well, she won’t even protect herself. At the grand age of 14, she’s decided that life is a waste, bettering yourself, for chumps.

Am I crazy for trying?

Am I?

•••

Listen, I apologize if this one is all clunky and amateurish in nature. It’s just that here it is September already, and still 2012 continues to shit itself down the throats of my friends and loved ones. Shoving pain after pain into their lives while I sit idly by – a personally unaffected and powerless passenger on a bullshit scenic drive through the streets of Miserytown, population: too damned many.

And then Fay dropped “Crazy” by Patsy Cline as her latest song prompt, the very day I found out about one client, three days prior to other client’s unexpected and violent death. As one who seemingly can’t let any damned thing go, thoughts of these two brought to mind the other two. And the rage builds. The anger boils. The frustration, the God damned frustration… Part of me wants to fall down at His feet, and the other part wants to sucker punch Him in the gut. The 150 words laid down today aren’t a testament to Patsy’s lost love so much as they are an affirmation of her feeling like she’s crazy. Anyone who lets love in is crazy. But maybe crazy is the way to be. Maybe crazy is the sole path to salvation, the route to being reborn.

I don’t know, and to be honest, I’m not actually in the mood to care just now. Just now, all I want to say is “hey, Big Daddy Death and Uncle Devastation, fuck you. I’ve had enough of the both of you this year. Quite enough. Give it a rest already, will ya? Leave my friends alone. Leave my family alone. Just leave us alone.”

I’m terribly sorry about all the pissy posts as of late kids. I’ll try my best to find a better place, and write from there moving forward. For now here’s Patsy with “Crazy,” one of only (3) country performers I’ll ever admit to listening to on a regular basis…

Briefly…

I was upset with my phone this morning, as the song prompt it was playing kept gagging. But then I realized: my phone was playing a song prompt.

It wasn’t tethered to the kitchen wall nor adorned with a clunky roto-dial. No, it sat comfortably in my passenger seat as it played a video (no worries, I only listened) of this weeks prompt for the 100 Word Song challenge.

Speaking of, here’s this weeks 100 Word Song.

And don’t forget, you can grab the whole mess of it here.

Isn’t it odd, as times change and technology expands – instead of looking on in wonder, I’m more prone to become frustrated over the “brave new world’s” perceived inadequacies. Instead of relishing in the fact that my phone even plays music, I become frustrated that it can’t do so correctly.

Looking cool, hanging with nepaliaustralian

I’m not sure.

You see, it might be. Based on the idea that my other efforts were more “reviewish” in nature then they were actually “guestish,” you know?

Know what? I’ve no idea what we’re talking about. You do this all the time. You start a conversation, only after you’re halfway through it in your head already.

Sorry. What I was saying is that I’m not sure if today’s post is the first time I’ve ever done an actual guest blog or not. Do the book reviews count? Because if not, then I can get all excited and giddy while telling everyone that this is my first time ever!

And if the book review posts do count?

Well then, I guess I’ll just have missed my opportunity altogether.

In that case, then no. They don’t count. Now, get all excited and tell everyone. But make it quick, as you’re far too old to be acting like this.

And oh – by the way – you DO realize that you in fact did tell everyone that your first review was also your “first guest post,” right? Thus making this entire conversation irrelevant, and a waste of everyone’s time.

Well, yeah… But I mean, I highly doubt anyone’s ever gonna read that far back to realize that I did – so let’s just keep it ‘tween ourselves, OK?

Ummm… sure?

Great. Thanks!

Hey everybody – lookie, lookie!  Right here! My first-ever guest blog post! Awesome!  I really hope you like it bunches! Woo-hoo! Yay me! *clap*clap*clap*clap* Yes, YES!

•••

Sorry kids, but you’ll just have to read the linked post to understand the reasoning behind today’s tune…

Briefly… The Fay Moore Song Prompt edition

You knew it was coming. You heard the wind slapping itself madly against the window of your mind. The memories, now turning crimson and gold, now in the wind, dead, now gone, trampled under foot.

You knew it was coming, because you’d seen it before. “Not me,” you said, just like all the others, the “not-meers” who came before you, all of whom disintegrated in the final scene.

Your sun burnt hands begin to shiver as the cold sets in. Your sun burnt hands… are they yours? Are they someone else’s? The memories drift farther away as your mind recedes into it’s own dark closet, the black hole that is slowly eating It’s way outward.

The winter song becomes louder, blaring its rickety tune. It’s calling for you now, you know. One last memory before you heed its call – leaves, drifting by the window, leaves tumbling, red and gold…

•••

My Blogging Buddy Fay Moore was nice enough to use my suggestion for one of her ongoing song prompts. In a rare example of not being a total and utter douche (and because she usually otherwise uses songs that far exceed my ability to play along), I decided to throw in my two cents on the matter this time. I was about a sentence in when I realized that instead of the love lost I thought I would be writing about, my 150 words (I’ve no idea – 150 just sounded about right) would be instead about the good people in my life who I’ve seen fight, suffer with, and die from Alzheimers disease. You knew me without ever knowing me, but this is for you, Jack.

Now, here’s Keely and Louis, performing the bestest version of “Autumn Leaves” that has ever been slapped down on wax:

Just One (more book review) Fix

Hey, are you there?

Pfft, no.

Why? Why not?

Because I’m here, of course. On the mollyfocking bus. Where I’ve always been, where I’ve never been before. As always. Come on, click the link. Take a lookie. Tell me what you think.

A book review?

Yeah. A book review, about junkies, and drugs, and the movie. THE MOVIE. Just one of 1,001 to read before you die.

Oh.

Well, will you ever come back here?

I suppose. Why?

Just wondering.

Hey, when?

When the bus stops, of course.

Oh. Ok then. See you then.

You might rabbit, you might.

Hey, what’s with the post title anyway? You gonna do something expected, like end this with a blatantly anti-drug anti-song?

Duh rabbit, duh.