DECEMBER GHOSTS

 

Frozen ghosts. Ghosts that haunt the empty realms of my troubled soul.

This blog is an unintentional enigma. The many conflicting facets of my existence are a grievous annoyance. My life isn't always an open book. There's a lot that I don't tell. I wouldn't dare.

In November my problems were overwhelming.
In December my problems are completely insurmountable. I've given up. Too mentally and physically exhausted to continue the struggle.
I'll somehow summon the strength to drag myself through December, to the threshold of another year - - and then what? 

.....and then the struggle intensifies with twelve new months of limitless agonizing possibilities. 

Ignore what I've said. They were random pangs of personal darkness not intended for public consumption. They should be expunged immediately. 

 My rural surroundings have engulfed me, ensnared me with  devious intrigue.
The forest around me is tauntingly deceptive, like a wayward lover:
an incredibly alluring facade that harbors dark elements of inevitable destruction.

Yesterday at dusk the curious lens of my digital camera captured wandering ghosts - - mesmerizing spirits of haunting beauty that linger in the crimson glow of a December twilight, among gnarled shadows of naked trees.

And suddenly my troubled soul shivers with unexpected delight.

                                    Jon
                                    an enigma

I'LL BE SEEING YOU

 

I'll be seeing you....until we meet again, somehow........somewhere.......
I only wish I could have told you everything.
But everything is too overwhelming, too dangerous. Everything is all that we never wanted to know.

Am I drunk?
Am I psychotically irrational?

I'm in deep personal contemplation.

I recently found this ancient piano tape in my music files. So old that I'd nearly forgotten I recorded it. It's my own arrangement - - which is damn good.
One of the (many) musical warhorses that I used to play in smokey midnight piano bars, where brutal reality was mercifully submerged in booze, cigarettes, and delicious sexual anonymity. I was alive then.

Alive.
These past few years I am merely a ghost, contemplating my own grave.....

So I took this old piano tape, made a quick, sloppy, haphazard video out of it. Posted it on YouTube.
Nobody will listen, nobody gives a shit.

But I listen. I hear the inner sanctity, the clockwork of musical depth that only musicians hear.

The audio quality isn't perfect. Isn't even reasonable.
But it's an old tape.

That's life. And life, my friends, is a brutally unforgiving bitch.

I'll be seeing you. Sometime. Sometime soon.
With more words, more music. More disturbing displays of personal contemplation gone awry.

Without me, where else would you find such an appallingly addictive enigma?