Clear Tigers - "Boredom" My computer's been in the repair shop for almost three weeks now, and it's making me realise how vulnerable all parts of my life are. My bones could break as easily as my iBook did. My liquor cabinet could crash to the floor, my roommate could flee the city, my phonecalls could stop being returned. All my photographs could crack, tear and burn; all my drawings could smudge. I'd go to the bagel shop and every bagel would be burned. I'd go to the ice-cream shop and find that everything had melted. I'd say "Hey, Dan!" to my friend Dan and he'd reply with an icy stare, or he'd up and move to Toronto, or he'd be kissing the girl I'd like myself to be kissing.

Some would think on these things and feel a fear. They'd spend their lives risking nothing. But me, I have too much time on my hands to cower. I can't just hide under my covers with my computer, watching TV on YouTube and rereading the emails from better days. Like I said: my computer's in the shop. The only possible behaviour is to turn up "Boredom", to turn it so loud that it tears the fabric on my speakers, that the stereo's lasers burn right through the CD, and then once the grey Panasonic box is all aflame I can myself crash through my apartment - hurling dishes, cracking mirrors, plowing through walls. I can destroy every dear thing in my life, rip every single thing to shreds, tear the love-letters with my teeth. To the sound of good-natured piano and strummed gutiar, repeated "oh"s, I'll take my life apart. Basking in the dying, happy sound of the Clear Tigers, I'll ruin everything. I'll sing along even when all my words have been lost, I'll take leaves from outside and dump them on my floor, I'll laugh with blood on my face - and finally, finally, amid the wreckage and the last wondering piano notes of this song, I'll realise that I've still got something left. I've still got something left, even if everything goes away.

[buy]

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Elsewhere:

Comparing American presidential candidates to hip-hop stars. Ghostface in 2012!