Missionary Impossible

It’s unhappy what’s happening. Whenever a conversation gets awkward with the truth,  I always pull out with “But hey- at least it’ll all make a good book someday.”  I say this often, but I have never sat down to coagulate the story.  So I’m finally clotting up my conscience and conceiving an autobiography titled “The Ghosting Eye”.  Palinopsia, my first symptom, is also known as “ghosting”.  The chapters will be out of order, linear to my current thought processes.

Each chapter will be the criminally confessed explanation of a song, or a few songs all on the same area of impact.    It’ll cover the basics and the acidics.  Some names will be changed and exact events will be hypermobile, giving protection to those who deserve it, as well as those who don’t.   My lawyer of a mother says that using Dr. Verma’s actual name could dress us up in lawsuit.  I’d prefer to streak around entirely in naked truth, but if I have to apply euphemistic pasties such as “Dr. Vermin”, then so be it.   My ex Franks last name will be as silent and hidden as he currently is to me.  Ironically enough his name was how we ended up together in the first place,  I read his nametag at college orientation, and thinking it was ridiculous, forged it on a survey about on-campus living. I checked boxes saying that I drank all day and was not a US citizen. Unfortunately he found out and we started dating afterwards.

Our band’s previous guitarist, and my most fond regret, will finally be repented.  I am not sorry for my actions, but I’m sorry that their consequences caused him to get hurt. It bit the tube that feeds.  In this book I’ll refer to him as “Javier” the name he was born with before being adopted out of South America.  Javi was my personal caretaker and living assistance for almost two years, and my best friend for almost my entire life.

 

I could have told you it was fine

I couldn't hold you in the lies

plant a plastic garden in your mind

never dies

I wanted to make you the truth

I couldn't change my point of view

A pair of mismatch socks inside the shoes

never lose

I never meant to hurt you baby

I never meant to hit that well

I never meant to burn you baby

the heart is hot

when it's in hell

when it's in hell

You were I bridge I was glad to take

you were never a mistake

you held me through a universe-quake

kept me safe

You never meant to lose it baby

I gave you too much to lose

We were broken glasses baby

saw through the shards

to make it through

make it through

All of the demons we suppressed

asleep but really not at rest

Plant a plastic garden in your chest

make the best

I knew I wouldn't last forever

So I thought it wouldn't be too soon

I never meant to call you baby

But I meant it when I said

that I loved you

I loved you

Red lights telling us to go

take the bow for you at my last show

Plant a plastic garden in your soul

watch it grow

watch it grow

The songs mentioned will be recorded professionally and a CD of them will be released in cahoots with the book.  This should give me on days when my roommates are at work and I'm alone unassisted something to do instead of following nerve damage rainbow hallucinations and cracking what’s left of my skull open on the wall:)