Road Trip

 I’m taking two days because I needed to see my good sister and my old friend needed someone to talk to.  

One of the benefits of travelling alone is you choose your own adventure.  So to speak.  Part of that is soundtracked.  The hum of the wheels, the changing tarmac under the tyres, visually in the sky and country, all those thoughts you don’t have time for back at home.  All of this needs a driver - something to pull it out and unravel it.  That’s when music becomes your co-pilot. 

Some of those tracks have been in my stacker for six years straight.  This flickering fickle culture of valorised newness forgets rather than begets old friends.  Even those artists who write it have said that it is something they made in the past, that they don’t want to know it anymore.  Is that what they say to old friends? 

We have to be careful with the soft things, the subtle things. Because they’re not quantified, they’re not counted.  But they’re qualified.  They’re what knows you; what sees you.  Sometimes they’re the hardest to hold because they’re precious and vital, potent and visceral and without form.  They’re the light that falls on you.  

When you travel alone, no-one tells you what to do.  I played you over as many times as it pleased me to do.  Old friends.  In the song Of the Clay, every line has strong vocabulary; each stanza delivers clever imagery. Then beneath that you write the story. 

How could you ever doubt what you do?  Just as you should never forsake the gift of a friend. 

I don’t exist.  I’m persona non grata. But people know me.  Most people steal from me.  You said, “Theft is the only crime”.   You know, you’re right. 

I’ve left a tiny trail.  Parts of it are missing. I was going to give you my story, but you’re too far away.  Besides, you probably don’t need it. 

I’ve left a tiny trail.  There are some codes locked in a box.  The quietest person will find it after I go, but they may not want to open all the places with the keys. 

I’ve made a place without my name.  It has one of the other names.  I’ve put this there before I send it to you.   It’s a public place.  You only need to know these words. 

I didn’t know if I could trust you with everything.