You made a straight shot
with your phone
calling me to see
if I was at home
And a straight shot
with a text
got me out of a tiny little mess
I had with my ex
I took a straight shot
from your eyes
the kind of look like donuts
that goes straight to my thighs
The straight shot
from your lips
made me pucker up fast
and get ready for a kiss
Then a straight shot
from your mind
and you know I thought
I had it made
Everything was fine
But a straight shot
from your gun
and just like that, dude,
t’was no more fun
Today’s theme music was my dream’s theme music. It was a flying dream, and involved one of my little sisters, so I don’t know why my brain used this song.
“Fox on the Run” (1975) is by Sweet. I know of them and their music mostly through radio play, or from their music being used in television shows or movies. I’m more familiar with “The Ballroom Blitz” but I’m accommodating my brain and its choice here. The song played constantly in the background during the dream’s flying segments. There weren’t any foxes in the dream but that would be literal. There was a young woman who was attractive to me and who told me that she wanted me, so I guess the song could be a reference to her. We used to call attractive women foxes or foxy. That’s what the song is about.
The flying was effortless, by the way, but the aftermath — this morning — I feel exhausted. Coffee, stat, you know?
Meanwhile, I didn’t much about Sweet, so I read their Wikipedia coverage and a few other sources. The singer, Brian Connolly, died of renal and liver failure. when he was fifty-one after suffering multiple heart-attacks. Back in 1974, he’d been beaten and kicked in the throat, which damaged his vocal cords. Life didn’t seem the same for him after that.
So, here. Gotta get this out of my head and my dream. Cheers
Floofbreak (floofinition) – 1. Taking a holiday or vacation away from animals, especially household pets. 2. A pet or animal’s escape from a place or situation.
In use: “Carole King made national news after her Border Collie’s floofbreak because Carole searched for fifty-seven days to find her friend.”
I was running up a hill the other day, so Kate Bush’s song, “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” (1982) popped into the stream. While running up that hill and thinking of her song about relationships, I thought about how easy it is for “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” to be about trying to change your life or achieve something, just get somewhere.
I’d be running up that road
Be running up that hill
With no problems
Running up a hill seems more apt as a metaphor over something like running in place. The exertion needed to run up a hill makes it different, as well as your attitude. When you’re running up that hill and begin tiring, breathing harder, sweat bursting out of your body, your attitude changes. You thought, “I can do this,” when you began. It seemed like a friendly challenge for yourself. Now, as the hill goes on, and your teeth grit and your muscles flail, you wonder. Your body flags, will flags, your heart pounds, and you breathe harder and faster, reaching a point where you decide, “Can I make it? Should I go on or give up?” Attendant thoughts, like, “Why am I doing this,” and, “Nobody else cares, nobody else would know if I stop,” enter.
But I knew, and I kept running, although I gotta tell you, I was a lot slower for much of it until I issued a final hard, determined burst and made it. Then I walked, hands on hips, gasping and sucking air, perspiration all over me, enjoying the view…and recovering.
Going back to that song, though, I often think of it when I know of someone I love that’s suffering, and think, “If only we could swap places, so I could take that on for you, and relieve you of your pain and suffering.” But if there is a God, it doesn’t seem like God likes to make deals.
Naturally, it relates to writing, too. Most writing days are stoic, persevering days of going on, like running on a flat. Some days become more powerful, days when I get a special wind and feel like I’m running faster than light. But there are days and times when I’m running up that hill and it seems endless and pointless.
At least for me.
EVSEDA (floofinition) – Acronym for Enjoyable Vortex of Sharing Every Day with Animals. EVSEDA is an expression coined to summarize the multiple pleasures and occasional frustrations experienced when living with animals, especially housepets. The vortex aspect of the acronym is to express how animals can monopolize time, attention, and energy in surprising and unexpected ways.
In use: “They had plans everyday, but EVSEDA often derailed their intentions as the cats, dogs, and goats played and chased, loved and cried, demanded attention, and struck sweet poses. Neither of them minded at all. EVSEDA enabled them to escape the world’s craziness. Both were privately certain that without EVSEDA, they’d probably be insane.”