As SlayerM Disintegrates

Well okay, I’m not really disintegrating, but I aint doing great either. It’s been over a month and a half since ol’ SlayerM hurt her back, and things just seem damn gloomy. Spring arrived in the city, and people started taking strolls, drinking their coffee in the terraces and, sigh, riding their bikes.

I don’t like those people very much, because they can do all these things while I can’t, and most importantly, they can ride their bikes, while I, cannot. When spring arrives, and the ol’ sunshine decides it’s gonna put away the Immortal records on hold for a few months, I go down to the semi-cellar my building has and I take a good, long look at my trusty bicycle (its name is Chris, btw)  and I know those months of bliss have come. The months when I’ll ride my bike, listening to my iPod, ignoring the crazy and the traffic of the city, and it’ll be just me and me music.

This is why, this spring sucks so far, and this is why, it’s Saturday night and I’m home (again), drinking sherry and listening to the Cure. Well, old friends, thanks for keeping me company. I’ve listened to this band on my walkman while riding in the bus going home from school, I’ve listened to it on my discman while I used to take long strolls in the city, just after the rain has fallen and there was no one around, and the streets looked so… well, great, cleaned of people. (Said the old closet misanthrope.)  And here I am approximately 10 years later, sitting at home at 3 am, on a Saturday, listening to the Cure. I always thought they were good company and just the right thing with just the right tone for those moments of inspired solitude when you want to think, or write, or just want to have very little to do with the outside world.

They still do the trick, even when that inspired solitude is forced upon. Their music is something that has to be absorbed when one is alone (even if the “alone” part means shutting out everything off that bus) and when you can pick up on those lait-motif nuances of beauty that glance through their almost never-ending darkness.   Yeah, darkness can be gallantly beautiful, just listen to Cure’s Disintegration.