Fartin' in the Shower/ Fuck You, Rudy

Man – it is so tempting to restring my guitar and sit up all night by candlelight being absurd. It occurred to me that, with no power, I can’t get out of my apartment complex, so I can’t really drive to school. I can, of course, hitch a ride; but it seems so much cooler to just say “fuck it” and play around. Of course, this candle blows, so I wouldn’t be able to restring my guitar, play on my laptop and make beats – it’s going to die in a few – or anything else, so that will keep me slightly sane. I think I’ll just type up this song, and if the power’s still out, go wander around the complex and the area for a bit with a Fat Tire and enjoy the views. J

This song is one I rapped a cappella at VybeLive, the hip-hop open mic in downtown Phoenix. I was sick nasty nervous, and I went way too fast – but I got a lot of love afterwards, even out in the parking lot, from people telling me I had skill. It felt so good – here it is:

Fuck You Rudy / Farting in the Shower
Farting in the shower
and it smells like the ocean
seven beers in
and I’m moving in slow motion
Looking down past my meat
to check out my feet
and the way that my toes grip the floor
Drunk I wonder why we’re so sure
that we’re something more
that we’re so evolved
that we’re so complex
we don’t know what’s next
stop and look at ‘em
check out your feet and check out your hands
stop a minute and burn up your plans
cuz life’s just a stage
and we’re all the dancers
never met the director
don’t know the answers
We’re just mammals looking for some tail and some love
now and then looking up to the sky above
cuz we all need help and advice
on how to make it through life
We don’t know that what we do with our day
is worth it
if we’ll look back and say
that we’re proud
of what we did and who we were
and we know we won’t know for sure before we go
before we’re dead and dust
and to no end it fucks with us
Me? It pisses me off

I admit I’m neither macho nor machine
I am addicted to the monster eyed green
That spoils the meat it eats
Or even more the fire that burns in my veins
When I’m caught out of turn
or caught in my pain
and the one so alike that ignites my skin
when I’m slammed in the throes of that perfect sin
or the kind of romance where you lose yourself
and I for one don’t think I’d prefer anything else
I’m fed and I feed this monkey on my back
fires and monsters more addictive than smack
and what’s fun is that you have him too
and I really, really want you to let him through

--fucking Rudy.
Rudy defined for all the world a man
as someone who can
walk with kings and never lose the common touch
one who neither friend nor foe can hurt much
if at all
and that shit leaves me appalled
if your lover’s untrue
if that wouldn’t kill you
if the betrayal of a friend
wouldn’t leave you at wit’s end
you weren’t really in love
where was the potential for pain?
It’s true what they say if you risk
nothing that’s exactly what you’ll gain
and the same goes for friends
if there’s no one on who you depend
then there’s no one to care if you meet your end
If either of these are the case
the proof left when the curtain falls
Why were you here at all?
I don’t know what this life is for
There’s very few things I know for sure
But I belive that if you love someone
you should let ‘em know
and if you hate ‘em
fuck it, let it show
we’re all together in this mess
and life’s too short to guess
how everyone feels
more than that, we’re blessed to feel
to risk to gain
to trust and lose
to feel some pain
be forced to choose
to live and learn
to breathe and burn
if you live your life and never shed a tear
never just needed a friend and a beer
then you missed the reason why you’re here
I might not seem like an expert on the subject
jumping out the shower and dripping wet
eating waffles with pb and j
slugging tequila plain
still crusted with soap
and looking straight insane

But here’s my closing thought
as I return to rinse
That since we can we ought
If we want the bull for the horns
enjoy the rose for the thorns
smoke from bridges burned
and cold shoulders turned
nights wasted in fights
tears poured into beers
as much as
victories made
sex and pink lemonade
enjoyed in the shade
the smiles and time spent with friends
and the hug of family at journey’s end
I mean – we only get one shot
why-the-fuck-not?
But, I’m too drunk to keep chasing that thought
though I’m feeling enthused
so I’m out the shower
dripping and stumbling
and searching for brews

Damn. That fucker was epic – maybe I could just plug choruses in between the early breaks, but a short instrumental bridge with no lyrics in the last break – in between two really fast, short-phrased sections. Hmmm..


It was interesting how I used to revel in every emotion, and sing the praises of the thorns on the rose, and don’t now. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve recognized unhealthy psyches and emotions in myself, and sought to clean myself of them, or because I’ve decided pain sucks, post-Emily. Maybe it was a new level of style and pain, so I decided it sucked? Or was I “growing up”?

Well – shit. I’ve thought for awhile now that “Hey, you learn from your mistakes – means monstrous ones must be full of lessons,” but I don’t really stress that anymore; now I just feel pretty peaceful. So we’ll see – maybe I’ll come back to digging on pain, or perhaps this is a permanent, valid realization that pain sucks.

I still like the concept of being emotionally free – I just feel like I’m much more emotionally independent, and less free. Maybe there’s less opportunity to be so, or need to, or simply less opportunity to exercise it, living, working, and knowing with a bunch of overworked dedicated teachers. I love the sensation of self-reliability – it’s so strange that feeling self-reliable feels completely different from the cocky confidence of when I was oversexed and under emotionally developed. it’s quieter. It’s nice; and I don’t feel any of the “fuck, is being water just cold and dead, or simply lividly boring” that I stressed in mid-senior year and post-thesis. I simply feel relaxed and no longer aroused to respond to annoying or distressing things. Sometimes I just feel stony, and I wonder (and hope that it’s not) that it’s simply closing off to the world, that stoniness. That’s why I want to wait and see if being free and self-reliable, emotionally, can coexist. They seem like they would naturally go together - except perhaps, when you’re self-reliable, you don’t even stress the inherent opinion-of-others aspect that I feel like creeps into most popular conceptions of being “free,” of being the happy hippie. Perhaps, instead, it’s the self-reliability and confidence of some solo nomad in the wild (not, of course, that I have any absurd notions of macho-Jack-London-self. That image pops into my head and is just laughably far out to me.), and so you’re free in a way that is simply an aspect of being self-sufficient. Or maybe being free means similarly, that you don’t even have self-reliability in a way that we typically conceive of it – you simply are, and exist, and do not stress practicality in a Zen way that doesn’t even ponder self-reliability – coasting along and enjoying.

Which came first, the freedom or the self-reliability? Guess that’s kind of the odd tangential question there, just to check out far abroad I’m wandering at this point.

Anyway, DAMN. The fidelity is shitty, but the Thrice B-sides I downloaded during class are phenomenal. Plus, they segued straight into the remixes of Lux Aeterna I have, which are completely redefining relaxed happiness right now, the intensity of the song notwithstanding. I have not had such a complete, interesting – at least to myself – self talk in awhile.

My laptop’s dying anyway – I’m getting another beer and going to enjoy the outdoors (rainy as hell or not) before bed.
12:26