a necessary fucking

rats and vampires. that's really all that I remember from last night.  and still a bit overwhelmed this following afternoon by the heat and drink and smoke, I don't have the necessary brain power to gloss over the stories from yesterday's adventure.  sitting all day in the 9th ward living room can take a strange and terrible wonderful toll on any man.  I can tell you now from experience that any attempt by a single individual to retain the folklore of this town in its entirety is a fucking yo-yo.  I tried for one day and failed before I started.  drunk as I was by the time the memory failed, it would be a lie to tell you that I didn't feel ugly and defeated by the end, only exacerbating the problem by exposing my weakness to anyone that would sit down beside me or foolishly hand me a drink.  but as I write this the sun shines happy on my shoulders, the thunderclouds in the distant quiet drift slow and seem more like old friends to miss until next time and I am not so upset ... acceptance of what can't be changed is a key to life here in new orleans.  the sweat, the heat, the debauchery, the madness; loss and weaknesses of all shades are dealt with in a collective effort.  it is the survival of the good.  the difference between this town and everywhere else usa is that those who know don't necessarily keep faith in the humanity of the human race ... their faith lies simply in humans being human and it is a faith free of doubt, the rarest of all creatures ... a hope forged by an imminent doom.  judgement being damned, no one here believes that they are jesus christ.  to fuck yourself stupid down and out is an inevitability of living and everybody here has their story of years black with rot and maleficence and recovery ... the baptism by fire.  it is the price of understanding and those stories are left unspoken more often than not.  there can be glimpses here and there, but know that there is a reason the barbed wire is angled in around the graveyards of new orleans.  indeed.  but my friends, last night I was getting it all.  an initiation for the ages and I only did so well.  having smoked my last cigarette I knew well enough that it was time to walk home and cut my losses, knew that judgement would only be passed by my own hand and that tomorrow I would simply have to wake up and attempt to prove myself again ... and again and again.  and that is best answer I can give, but rest assured, I stepped out of bed to find my keys, cash and nuts in place and all is well.  so take a bow, I say to myself, and then start running.  life is a small window and sometimes you have to unleash the iron ... other times you just have to ask for a little help from a friend.  one way or the other, fight with style and a smile and the window becomes just that much bigger.  welcome to the bywater.