these days i don't know if you're my friend or not.
somedays we're as close as
brother and sister
but these days you can be surprisingly cruel.
I think you're hurt inside
but at the same time confident and chaotic.
but always there lurks the ugly.
it's me, i know
me who is chaos
doing everything i shouldn't do and always complaining
but my life is slipping away..
at 30 i'm dying inside
and i want to be 21 again
and erase the mistakes I've been
I whine because i weep inside
i tear my mind apart with chemicals because I don't want to know
who I have become.
who i am becoming...
alone and that feels like it'll never change.
alone, even surrounded by you
and my other friends
and usually i feel most alone then.
I'm somewhere else while my body and my small-talk is in the room
i might as well be on the moon.
the other night the moon wanted me
she wanted me.
in the daze of chemistry and loneliness
I watched her watching me
she beckoned and i reached out to her
cuz she was just ten feet away
milk-white skin and a smile on her face that made mona lisa cry.
i know it made me cry...
you don't want to hear this.
i don't want to tell you this, ever.
so, for you and me, and what we call "friendship" but seems to be
less than love, which is a story unto itself;
you'll never read this.
you'll never know...
Munk sept 1995 8.46pm saturday night
(while testing wordperfect 5.1 setup on Bruce's computer. life is
so fucking funny that way, I start to type and out comes this shit
that nobody needs to ever know. It's like the fact that my best
musical ideas come to me in the shower when there isn't any way to
write them down or record them. keyboards cause me to write- to run
off at the mouth, so to speak. Fuck. well, I'll run the spell-check
and see if that shit works...)