Look at the blue of the sky and tell me why you held back. Did you think there would one day be a bluer sky and a better hour?
I am adrift. At 21, penniless in a world of plausible excuses, I am alone with my goals. These are difficult years, and if anything loving lay ahead I was already paying a large enough price. At my lowest in these years of signing on, I do not fit in anywhere with the family philosophy, and these days set the tempo of the times- even for the days when the sun re-enters the room. Travestied or not, you must just get through it.
Unless I am with you I shall never be where I belong.
You’re the one for me, fatty.
Only classical composers were known by just their surnames, and this suited my mudlark temperament quite nicely.
If you think peace is a common goal, that goes to show how little you know.
Nothing, I have decided, could waste precious life more than trigonometry and logarithms.
Unfortunately, what I am waiting for is myself, as others hahahaha on streets where squabbles threaten and desire is dread.
Such meeting reveal that which we all darkly suspect about those whose art we have loved: that they are unlikely to be whatever it is we imagine them to be.
None of the family had passed the 11-Plus exam, and henceforth cannot be saved, our futures doomed by an undotted i.
Lou Reed is unimpressed by applause, and lives a life detached from custom. His stare is cold and his romanticism is brutal. His songs are half-sung melodies of menace. He might drop dead any second, and is therefore the real thing. Examined ravenously like a museum exhibit, Lou Reed is evidently spiked to excess, and strangely loveable.
I need grit and struggle and Los Angeles is terribly nice, but people, once they get there, cease to be real. Constant and repetitive fulfillment is not good for the human spirit. We all need rain and good old depression. Life can’t be all beer and skittles.
But if you come to a road where danger Or guilt or shame’s to share, Be good to the lad that loves you true And the soul that was born to die for you And whistle and I’ll be there.
Fields are places in books, and books are placed in libraries.
Chrissie could make people laugh at the funeral of triplets.
Where, I wonder, can such stylishly fitted jeans be found?
Yet Lillian is all heart and love, but fearless in the face of foe.
Everybody was sorta going to sleep twards the end of 1983, and I felt that they had to be woken up!
Meekly, I had missed the value of There is a light that never goes out, and I suggested to Johnny that it shouldn’t be included on the album. He laughs a you-silly-thing warranty, and I drop the protest.
It is considered odd that a boy so young should care so much.