The grind, not so much.
But that’s where I find myself now. Head down, teeth clenched, tendons and brain overstrained by the ordinary obstacles and unremarkable achievements that overpopulate the everyday eat/shit/work/drink/shit/sleep repeat trick that may raise monuments in the long con but in the immediate, actual anyday signifies nothing.
And I worry that the petty pace will wreck me if it hasn’t already.
I worry the yen for triumph and glory and the ridiculous, almost unbelievable stories that once marked me as a man who was viable, vital (if only at parties) might be succumbing to the grime and dust and overwhelming exhaustion that coats me routinely because being here and now and just trying to pay the rent and be in love and run this site and mind the dogs and stay alive and cater to casual vice and find time for friendship and make room for fun and fend off the anxiety and depression and shame that’s plagued me since I first saw the fright light pulsing bright in the waiting room is just…fuck, it’s a lot.
I have to endure it, though, don’t I? I have to keep on through the night. I have to drink too much coffee. I have to swallow my pride with cheap beer time and time and concede that I am EXACTLY where I’ve let myself be and I can either appreciate that for what it is and who I have to be in its context and wrest the confines to form a ladder out or I can quit.
But what can a man do in resignation but die, slowly…ignobly and unwell?
And I just can’t have that. I can’t give up on me. The end is not an option. It never has been. That was the axiom, wasn’t it? Everybody gets home alive. We work to survive despite ourselves and the crushing weight of another day, unrealized. If we don’t, then we thrived for nothing. We leave as errant flashes in a cautionary tale peddled by the very pricks that snuffed us out and that shit can not stand. It can’t.
We have to persevere. We have to continue. We must get up everyday and put in our rounds and smile, dumb at the daunting and – when we’re out from the thumb – make art and whatever the fuck else we’d like because if we don’t then nobody else will.
So what if it’s imperfect?
Only Run Tracklist:
1. As Always 04:49
2. Blameless 03:03
3. Coming Down 03:43
4. Little Moments 03:10
5. Only Run 04:44
6. Your Advice 03:28
7. Beyond Illusion 03:59
8. Impossible Request 03:38
9. Cover Up 05:08