They say the gauge of railroad tracks
Is the same width of Roman chariots
When i hear the trains go by every night
Trumpeting their 7 million dollar suicidal horns
I hear the clickity clack over Chinese immigrants
Backs and listen to the Christian and the lion
Still negotiating some kind of deal
o I’ve been having a difficult time lately with my depression or as I like to call it, my weltschmerz. The word weltschmerz is a German word that translates literally to world weariness. This describes the feeling that I get when the weight of the world bears down on me. Luckily, I have music to help get me past that feeling. In today’s episode of Cara’s Music Corner, I am going to talk about music that sounds as equally depressed as I am at times.
Dressing up for a date beginning, middle and final examinations, midterms, midwifery, DNA tests I flunked the last one I took, yep still a big Y on the, Marc! Set! Grow! a pair of aces beats my queens, and kings and guillotines sluiced deer entrails are offal but make bloody omens beware the ides ofContinue reading “Word Salad”
Shit got real on March 12th when I found out that Governor Brown of Oregon issued a ban on all events over 250 people on the evening of March 11th due to the coronavirus. I was supposed to go to Tool along with my partner and his two kids later the very next evening. Their subsequent cancellation felt like a punch in the stomach.
So one of the most remarkable and hardest decisions that I have made recently was to sell my car. Obviously, for a lot of Americans the decision to sell their car would be unconscionable. It was a difficult one for me. I loved my car. However, there comes a time when the very act of ownership becomes a reinforced complicity in a failed and rapacious big oil paradigm that is predicated on the domination and exploitation of this place we call Earth.
My boyfriend said listening to Bell Witch is like going to the bathroom. You probably don’t want to spend too much time in there. It’s best just to get in, enjoy the release and then get the hell out. I think he mostly referred to the low sounding vocals and growls. But on an existential level, the same could be said for mourning and grief. I only hope the next time I have to visit that paradoxical space it will be just as tortured, beautiful and epiphanic as listening to a Bell Witch song.
When I say the word, homelessness…I also mean to say gentrification, fundamental human neglection and an enormous dearth of empathy. However the biggest reason is the familiar crepitaculum of the income inequality skeletons stuffed in Uncle Sam’s closet. I feel the problem of homelessness is a remarkable and aposematic precursor portending an upcoming economic perturbation.