Groucho
Marks once said; the secret of life is honesty and fair dealing. If you can
fake that, you've got it made.
I think
often times writers, poets perhaps more so, write in this abstract way that
while revealing what they want to say – at the same time hides many things
about them. I know I do. And so it is in life, where you allow people into your
world, exposing elements of who you are and also why you are who you are.
Unless you are lucky enough to meet the right one - most people will never know
the whole reason that you are ‘you’.
But every
now and then in the reality of the bright day sunlight, you take the risk and
release a personal part of yourself out into the world. Hence the year I had
red hair exactly like the photo above.
I do
however see these moments as extremely relevant to our growth as individuals.
Those few times in life when you just throw it out there and admit – I want to
be like this guy. I want to do what they do. And so you begin to mirror the
details that could have helped start them on their road; the shirt, the hair,
the expressions and body language. It’s immature, and probably something we
shouldn’t really entertain after age 13, but I guess most people my age,
whether they’d admit it or not, are in a perpetual state of childhood, at least
to some degree.
So here I
am today waking up to the news that one of ‘my guys’ has died. One sewn through
the embroidery of my early 20’s. From friendships through relationships, from
drunk parties to solitude. All in all a damn big chunk of life while I was
becoming ‘me’. And already the headlines are written before the body goes under
– that it is no surprise. That the drugs were always going to take him. Well,
maybe. Maybe not. But this isn’t a eugoogly for a junkie. (yes eugoogly).
I had to
write something. Not to let people know what I think, or share thoughts and
feelings. But to say I have the strength now, in the most positive
way, to not care what people think. And part of that, a large part, is due to
Scott Weiland. There are others - their names would fit on the back of a
matchbook – that still contribute. But losing one that meant so much has kind
of broken me today. I got a message while writing this, saying ‘be careful of
your heart today. The sun’s out and that makes it hard too…’
This is
true. The cold blue December sky reminds me of driving, singing Plush full
volume.
At least
I can still, always do that.