Talking outta my head. TTT (which kinda looks like a 3-eyed giant crying)

Indian summer.
Summer road.
Road rage.
Rage blood.
Blood lust.
Lust lost.
Lost face.
Face yours.
Yours, ever.
Ever...?

Ever.

In all fairness, it has been a tremendous Indian summer so far, and I'm happy. Serene. Excited. No, those two can't coexist. Can they? Will I be still long enough to be happy? Me, an artistic runt with half a face, and less than half a name. Sharpening my pen against the sides of my paint-dry desk.

***
It works because the colors make sense.But I don't know if I should talk to you about colors. My mother told me you were color-blind. She said she saw you walk against the red light like it was nobody's street. But she made it her business. That's momma for you, she'll dash after strangers if it means things slipping into order. My momma, she has a peculiar way of understanding order.

So, then? Are you mad? Because of what I said with the colors, and the lights.

No. I'm not mad.

And the colors?

I believe you about the colors.

But you can't believe in colors. Colors are like facts, they're either there, or they're not. My daddy knows a whole lot about facts, more than anyone in the world. He used to tell me about them, and momma would scowl, and tell him to knock it off. Then he didn't come home one day, and now momma tells me stories about him, and I believe her.

He stopped being a fact.

You know about facts, then?

I know some.

You just don't know about colors.

I know some about colors, too.

Then why'd you walk at the red light? The red light means you're supposed to stop.

Well?

Because something got all messed up inside my back, and now it's hard to coordinate. It's hard to know when to walk, and when to stop.

What happened to your back?

A bus driver who didn't believe in colors put my spine out of whack.

Oh. But then, why did you tell momma you were color-blind?

I know she's afraid of bus drivers, and I didn't wanna worry her.

No, she's not.

Then, spines.

That's just silly.

You think? Be quiet now, else you'll ruin the surprise.

But momma hates surprises. Says they scare the life outta her.

Bingo.

***

I been listening to a lot of music, so maybe that's what brought this on. So here, three tunes that have been on my mind. For #threetunetuesday. Hi, @ablaze!

This has been on repeat for the better part of the afternoon. Is it a love song? A love song to music? I dunno. Don't care, either.

This whole album, to be fair, has also been on repeat. I mean, that voice.

I grew up with REM. A sugarcane from Country Feedback was gonna be my first tattoo, when I got old enough. It didn't end up like that, but they remain a source of unparalleled curiosity and creativity. Listening to REM makes me feel curious and alive, and like in the beginning of this, serene and excited.

<center<I'm breaking through, I'm bending spoons
I'm keeping flowers in full bloom
I'm looking for answers from the great beyond