taking reality to the cleaners

reality sucks. its snort in the nose, smelly armpits and shit stripes on your sheets. its hemorrhoids that act up and antacid pills. its falling hair and bones that creak. it’s the pain in your head that hurts something fierce. it’s nerves struck up tight like a trip wire. it’s going around in circles with a whopper of a hard on. reality. i don’t need that mother no more. fact is, i live in a world where reality can be a pain in the butt. i think my mind is going which is the only saving grace. most often i am not what i am. i am holden caulfield stuck in a world of phonies, i am jack kerouac all set to pack up my bags and set out to places unknown, i am cochise riding down the hills looking for a place to spread my blankets, i am custer getting my just desserts at little big horn, i am the man with no name chewing on a big cigar, i am robert johnson at the crossroads waiting to strike up a deal with the devil, i am jimi hendrix playing the guitar with my teeth at woodstock, i am old greybeard singing the song of myself , i am henry miller eyeing the whores on the streets of paris, i am captain kangaroo and superman and trout kilgore and lot of other people besides, but i am also an ageing has-been going to seed living in a small town down south. south of india that is. sometimes there are moments of absolute clarity when the colors fade , the lights dim and the world is painted over with shades of grey. thankfully those moments don’t last too long. there is nothing that a shot of the local hooch can’t fix.