this was never meant to happen...

i was meant to die in blazing glory at the age of 33

after a short but intense life of indulgence 

and self inflicted damage

burned up by the passage of the music

incandescent and translucent

made of matter so fine it was energy

and yet here i am

twenty years later

still grinding on

memoirs of a burnt out rock star   haha

it was herselfs idea that i survive the overdose

she was the one who walked me up and down

all night and threw me into a cold shower

when i was just trying to let go of it all

to climb or rather fall off the wheel of time

at dawn i realized i was going to live and we wept

and she engulfed me whilst the birds sang outside

greeting the new day after the longest night

i have been rich and poor

flooded with ecstasy

drowned by despair

i took every drug i could 

drop smoke snort or shoot

fucked with hundreds of women

traveled five star across the globe

tasting all its decadent pleasures

had a wad so thick i couldnt fold it

couldnt hold it

it flowed away from me

i was happy to see it go

right now i would be happy to see it return

so it goes

i cant really blame the sharks

after all its what they do

attracted by the smell of money

mixed with the odor of innocence

they circle closer and closer

until they rip in for their pound of flesh

leaving you gutted and bleeding

i must take responsibility

for i allowed it to happen...

in my growing insanity i was above all that

i was the "artiste"

surrounded by people who agreed with 

everything i said  did  or even thought

my feet werent on the ground

i was hanging from the sky

bathed in the energies of another realm

living for the smell of  the electricity

when the music and the crowd become one thing

of energy and transmutation

a living gestalt

greater than the sum of its parts

it was scary too though

for when it really worked

you were no longer you

just a conduit for the current

a puppet of the power

which used you up so completely

and left you so empty

afterward

and if you think that sounds wanky and pretentious

imagine how it felt

my muscles feel as if they are collapsing towards the earth

dragged by gravity into decline

they hang off my skeleton

like an oversized melting clown suit 

now i am paying the price

for the years i abused my body

for the many nights i stayed up until dawn and beyond

for all the lovely cocktail of drugs flooding my bloodstream

flashing my brain into overload

for the endless sexual expeditions downunder 

and beyond

sex part 1

 i think it was one of the sex pistols

who described sex as thirty seconds 

of squishy noises

a mound a tuft and a slit

how great is that

original sin

the christian contribution

to a society of shame and guilt

to deny the sacred beauty of sex

scared of the power 

which needs no intermediary priest

to join us to the godhead for a few shining moments

so they preach repression

and open the way for their partners in crime

the admen to exploit and manipulate sex

for their own selfish reasons

to sell cars and cigarettes and 

other crap

how sick is that

where are these weapons of mass distraction

i could surely use a bit of distracting

chill factor 99

it is freezing here and the rain pours down unceasingly

a bitter wind whips the trees into a wild dance

while the dark grey skies bear down upon me

heavy

sex part 2

william blake said that

the nakedness of woman is the glory of god

and so it is

i am envious of the animal kingdom

where sex is not a minefield of repression and angst

not a politically incorrect battlefield

not a power game or a mind trip

not about guilt shame and neediness

i love women

but maybe i hate them more

such is life

because i can still taste the ashes

i lived in a mansion once

with five acres of gardens

and a menagerie of pets and people

to take care of everything

but those days are long gone

now i live in a caravan

at the mercy of the dept of social insecurity

by the whim of a cruel god

i had it all and threw it all away...

and i was the cruel god...

cigarettes (forbidden) and pills (obligatory)

joints (hmm) and after dark the wine (dry)

and more pills

these are the last dark days

one day soon the sun will rise

but my eyes will be empty

my body a lump of decaying meat

and still life will go on

my kids will dance the blood music

my genetic material will keep carving its path

through history

dealing with a nasty virus

streaming nose freezing toes

feverish hallucinations by the light of flickering candles

strange dreams that made me cry out in my sleep

guttering candles   purring cats

there are much worse places on a rainy night

than my snug burrow of blankets

i spent 98 per cent of my money

on wine  women and song

and the rest i wasted

of complaining into the void

so i decided to add my email addy

to this journal

petercarolan@yahoo.com

i promise faithfully to post any email i get in rhe blog

here are a few suggested messages :

1  i think you are a 14 year old girl with a vivid imagination.....

2  i think you are the most sincere person since adolph hitler....

3  i think you should be hung drawn and quartered you sick freak.....

but you can probably do better than that

lookimg forward to yr feedback

jimi hendrix not 

after all that i can be pretty philosophical

about it all

though i am poor now

i have seen enough real poverty

in Calcutta  Djakarta and Manila

to know that i am well off

in terms of the third world

i have a dry private space to sleep

and i rarely go hungry

so i count my blessings 

my only real frustration is that i still make music

but nobody wants to listen any more

people just scan the surface of the sound

skipping any hidden depths

just like modern life eh ?

hotels  airlines  carhire 

record co  publishing co

pa hire  lighting hire  security hire

breweries  hydro merchants  columbians 

venues  publicists  record shops

recording studios  management 

insurance  accountants  merchandisers  

video production  musical instruments makers

personal assistants and road crew ....etc etc

anything left over

why that is for the musician

the ones at the pointy bit of the pyramid

the muso as you can see

is fairly low down the food chain

the world is full of wannabe rock stars

young kids who know little of the realities

that they will be used up and cast aside

as the new generation of suckers come charging through

and the people in charge of the *industry*

only care about one thing

the bottom line

doh

and after a couple of days a cardboard sign 

was taped to the front door

it read: no return for change of mind

just like real life eh?