Huis Clos

If there's a fitting metaphor for the way things have been going for me lately (and the reason that things on this blog have been so quiet lately), it would be my hands. Right now they're covered with scratches. Hatched up like they've been through all sorts of hell. Things have happened, but a lot like these scratches -- they're not as big a deal as they probably appear to be from the outside.

Sometimes the longest shadows are the ones you create for yourself.
I don't know -- this always seems to be a bad time of year for me.
Scattered reminders of the past. Demon distance. Sleepless nights.
Going into it in any detail would start to sound like the lyric sheet from some half-rate emo band, so I'm gonna pass on all that for now -- but I just wanted to let everyone who's contacted me wondering where I'm at and if I'm OK that I'm still around.
I'm just ..dealing with some stuff, trying to stay on top.
In the meantime, here's something to keep you happy that's been getting some heavy rotation in my headphones lately. Great song from a great band, from a time where every heavy rock video inexplicably seemed to feature some shirtless old man wringing his hands in front of the camera. Seriously, you have to imagine that somewhere in Hollywood at a retirement community there's like five old guys sitting in wheelchairs talking about the good ol' days.
"Oh, you mean the good ol' days like when you were a young man?"
"No, the good ol' days like the Summer of 1999 -- when I was working like 3 video shoots a week. I mean, one day I'd be the old guy in a cave for Metallica, then I was some sort of mad scientist for Alice in Chains, and then on Fridays I'd be wandering around some basement naked for Tool."
"Did you have to sodomize the marionette?"
"Are you kidding? I sodomized the hell out of that marionette."
"..Good times."

[Listening to:  Alice in Chains"Get Born Again" ]