Kick Drum Heart


“Talk on Indolence”

(lyrics by The Avett Brothers)

Well I’ve been lockin’ myself up in my house for sometime now

I wish I could.

Reading and writing and reading and thinking
and searching for reasons and missing the seasons:

I feel like all I ever do is work and think and read and write.

The autumn, the spring, the summer, the snow

Yeah, they’re all passing by without passing me a thought.

The record will stop or the record will go.

And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

Latch is latched, the window’s down,
the dog coming in and the dog going out.
Up with caffeine and down with a shot.

I’ve done and am doing all I can to prepare myself for life, but all I can do at this point is drink some coffee and take a shot of vodka so I don’t worry myself to death…

Constantly worried about what I’ve got.

…even though I might just do that anyway.

Distracting my work but I can’t make it stop
and my confidence on and my confidence off.

Some days I have it, and can kick ass at everything. Socially, academically, physically… and then other days I suck at life.

And I sink to the bottom and rise to the top
and I think to myself that I do this a lot.

It’s a cycle of success I go through all the time: I’ll be doing really well and then a downward spiral takes me through a fog of humility and shitosity. Then I’ll go back up again and with any luck I’ll be at the top of this spiral until I get into the college I want.

World outside just goes it goes it goes it goes it goes it goes…

While I’m preparing and learning and trying, the world’s flying by and I’m in school.

And witness it all from the blinds of my window (three, four)

I can’t decide if that’s good or bad.

I’m a, little, nervous, ’bout what you’ll think
When you, see me, in my, swimming trunks

Unless I’m too tired to care (re: right now), what people will think of me always crosses my mind. Now, everyone who knows me knows I’m confident. Opinions do matter to me, though, sometimes.

And last night! New York, I got… raging drunk

But opinions don’t matter enough for me to not live life. I’m referring to anything. Leaving lunch early, doing as I please for once in my life, a night of drinking with friends, hanging out with a boy. Singing, painting, xylophoning. Drum circles and conversations at four in the morning that don’t make any sense, but then again are perfectly sensible.

Remember, one time, I got… raging drunk with you

It’s the love and happiness we take and make from life that shapes us and gives us memories for when we’re old and decrepit. I’m not going to gyp my eighty year old self out of any recollections.

Now, I can recall a time when we made the city
Streets our playground, kissing in the fountains

I really do want to remember the times I’ve had this year…

Filled with cigarettes and bottles
Sped through Italian city streets of cobblestone

So the alcohol will probably not be an enormous factor in my life. I don’t want to forget things, and I don’t want to rush growing up. But if an opportunity’s there and I’m safe around people I trust, what the hell. You only do live once.

Because we had to

I know that personally I have to live. Live like it was my last day.

Because I loved you

It might be strange but I have a fondness for almost everyone I come across, and every “last” day that I live will hopefully be an attempt at expressing that fondness. Friendliness itself is strange these days.

Because the damned alcohol

Since the song mentions it, and I’m too tired right now to care that this is disconnected, who cares about drinking? And pot, and cigarettes? They’re personal choices. I’m not judging. I might worry for the health of my friends who smoke, but that’s it, son. Do what you want.

Because what ever at all

Because in the end I figure, God won’t care who drank (Jesus did), who smoked, or who had sex with who. He’s going to care whether or not we showed love, not just to our own inner circle of friends. If we loved our enemies, too. If we treated everyone with respect, if we tried to help.

Now I’ve grown too aware of my mortality
To let go and forget about dying

Everyone’s going to die, and I think that sucks. If we could live forever, this would be a much safer world.

Long enough to drop the hammer down
And let the indolence go wild and flying through

I think that this year is going to be a year (for me) of freer speech, of saying what I think. Of shaping my beliefs and expressing them, living them. My own indolence gone wild and flying is less of a reckless rebellion. It’s more of what Brendan calls a love riot. Love for people, love for life.

Because we had to

What else would I do with myself?