"I don't believe you. You're a liar"
"Play it fucking loud!" Bobby D. said that. Said that to his band after being heckled by members of the audience (for breaking from his folk roots & getting too rock & roll-y) at his 1966 Manchester concert. Then, Like a Rolling Stone hits hard.
bob-goes-electric, I-go-electric.
rambling:
I'm not an 'f word' user. Though, I have said it and twas a thrill, it left a sour taste on the tongue. But I love the, the punch-in-the-gut feeling of Dylan yelling it, off mic, to his band.
I want to play it stinking loud and I'm standing on the stage, eager-beaver to blast away the nay-sayers. Wanting to leave my addiction to sadness behind & get electric. Feeling fine most days, working hard for too little, enjoying nearly all the moments. A spark in my heart (more than a muscle twitch), curious again about faith, love (God). My heart has been so hardened & my mind so resistant. Talking to my brother about this. Feeling right feelings about it again, like it's never left my mind/soul/heart.
My heart has been ravaged by a love that I wouldn't let go. While I still hold the hem's edge of my heart-breaker, tears don't come as easily when I think of his face, his hand moving my hair as I kissed him from above & his, 'we are like two puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.' I've quit fighting for answers, I am feeling peace. It isn't easy & my heart is a slow mender (also a foot dragger). I start each morning bleary, eye-gunked up, but once I bespectacle my morning face the day has arrived & I'm going electric. I've turned the knob, opened the door & confusion-doubt is heading out. Realizing half a cigarette is enough & we shouldn't smoke on the fuel dock. Nearly ready, anxious to love, itching to give, open to hear (can't wait to talk again brother)...going electric.
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