Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Cupric sulfate, cupric chloride, polyvinyl chloride and blind rage. That's where your colors come from.

If you can't soar with the eagles,
Then don't fly with the flock
Are you still getting by?
Was I your knight in shining armour?
Or the apple of your eye?
Or just a step, a fucking step to climb?
It's official. I have corrupted Sam with my musical tastes. We pretty much live on the same page of lyrics on a regular basis though. If he's listening to or humming something odds are I either had it playing the day before or I'll put it on the day after. If we find something new we share it with each other first and while I patiently wait for Stone Sour's  House of Gold and Bones Part 2  and Switchfoot's Fading West soundtrack to hit the shops I can soothe my twisted mind (and his) with Bring Me the Horizon's Sempiternal, released today. August and Lochlan have already memorized the songs. It's like the Beastie Boys but more melodic, more metal. I can't even describe it.

This morning Sam was playing it so loud in the church he took a page right out of Jacob's book of daily tasks. That or this whole area is filled with folks who have the police department on speed-dial because we're interrupting their yoga or something. He got a visit and a warning and a whole lot of compliments on the acoustics of the room. I know, right? (Not bashing the yoga crowd, just the concept of silence in general.)

And yes, Lochlan exploded yesterday/today/perpetually. I keep finding pieces of Mystical Fire everywhere. I always suspected he was made of it but I have confirmation now. How pyrotechnical of him. But he's exactly like me, says one thing, does the complete opposite. We are working on it. It's going exactly as well as you would imagine.

Rather badly.

He called me a name this morning even. A horrible one, and Ben wrestled him to the ground and threatened all kinds of things. Because Lochlan doesn't mind when he's the interloper but if someone else is, well, look the fuck out. I told him he was a hypocrite and a fraud for all of his sudden morals. He told me to grow up and I yelled back that I did! I DID!

So why do I provoke him so painfully? I don't. Well, I mean I do but really there are things you don't know. Yes, life should be simpler. Right or wrong, yes or no. Black and white. But it isn't and it never will be like that, I fear.

So we eat the music, grow the skin, soothe the ruined hearts and keep moving forward. He loves me, he just doesn't like me.

I taught him how to pull that off, I just can't tell you why.

He'll soften. I just have to give him a little space. Or maybe he has to give me space. See? This is why I play my music so fucking loud. It blocks out damned near EVERYTHING.