Last night, a meltdown. A series of unfortunate chess moves in a game I had nearly won bring my brooding, often kept at perpetual simmer,to full boil as I violently sweep my hand across the board and spray the pieces all over the living room. JP just stares blankly at me and I begin pacing back and forth, fuming. I sometimes must remind myself that I CAN be defeated and am NOT Ben Kingsley. It's just that I feel like I'm letting my Dad down when I lose and all those three hour games stretching into the early hours of the morning were for nothing. Searching for Bobby Fischer sits on our floor and is nearly 17 days overdue and Blockbuster can suck it. I on the other hand am searching for sanity and still can't get over that stupid bishop to knight six embarassment.
Under the influence of Marisa the Kissa and album burning generosity of DB, a sefl fulfilling anthem emerges:
I just can’t look its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it’s just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
‘Cause I’m Mr Brightside
6 comments:
Nice shirt Marisa!
I like Roy Lichtenstein's art.
Hey write something about Rita. Everybody else is.
Cheers! Thanks Mtown. You mmmmrock! :-D
DB,
I love you. Now you have a semi-nice mention in the blog and confession of love in the comment section. Good news for you. :)
Man she does have a way with words!
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