APAD #7: Some Days Are Better Than Others (Given Time)

All these goddamn poets and songwriters
And screenwriters and rappers and bloggers
Keep beating to me to every single punch.
Everything I have to say has been written by twenty men and women
who wield and weld words better than I ever could.

[In one caffeine powered burst, I stand up (ill advised) and shout: And even if I had, who would listen? You’ve got your goddamn acoustic guitar and think that gives you instant credibility. But me? Just one white kid shouting words against the walls? Not so much, no, no one wants to listen to that. Well, hell, I went and GOT a backing band, so I will break into your headspace someday soon then you'll fucking swoon when I tell you to and you will hate and hurt and heal over and thank me for it]

/And breathe/Eyesclosedeyesopen +++++
What follows is a list of things can instantly turn a(ny) day around:

Or at the very least, seriously improve a mood -
Pizza. Long talks with good friends. Short arguments with bad friends which you clearly win (and others witness). Loved songs (loud ones played quietly, quiet ones played painfully loud).Lists. Unexpected e-mails or invitations from long lost much missed companions and comrades. Good poems. Dancing. Warm weather (with intermittent breezes). Sugar. Noise. You.
Did I mention the pizza? Trust me about the pizza.
\Andbreathe\Eyesclosedeyesopen +++++

We wake late
(Having been up until godknowshwhathour
Working on songs about poems and poems about songs)
And, after dislodging the dust from our eyes,
We just lay there for a long, long time.
We digest the crumbling remains of dreams
But we will rise, given time
And then do great things -
So stand back and shut up. Open a window, let in some sun,
Fetch us some water and gather your friends.

And they do. Then -

Someone raises a placard saying “FUCK LIFE, LET’S ART!”
The girl to my left pulls a face.
“Isn’t it all the same thing?”
The boy to my right leans in front of me. I move my head forward. He leans behind me. I move my head back. He leans in front of me.
“It depends on how you live, surely?”
“And more importantly” I add “what your art is like”
The crowd knows the answer to this one and answer in unison:
“IT’S PRETTY GOOD”
I grin. There is hope yet.

We rise, given time.

[End. Written whilst listening to: Wale, The Thermals. Edited whilst listening to: I Need A Life (Four Tet Remix) by Born Ruffians, which doesn't really sound much like Four Tet or Born Ruffians but does sound a lot like learning how to fly and taking off for the first time. The Eyesclosed/Eeyesopen stuff is a reference to my favourite BARR song, Half of Two Times Two. The title is partially a reference to one of my least favourite Smiths songs. "Sugar and Noise" is the name of an ol' blog of mine and generally a good description of The Best Things in Life. Thanks to Caitlin for help editing this one. Good. Night.]