LIBERATION DAY

Today: in a fit of blind rage, I threw my TV off of my third story balcony. It exploded on the ground and some shrapnel struck a passerby passing by. "That's my bad!" I say.
I went back inside and put on some music. I have no more TVs.
I haven't listened to Bill Evans lately. Or "Houses of the Holy."
Or Rubber Soul, Opiate, Blood Sugar.., Relationship of command, blah, blah

Carrying my keyboard, with help from a friend walking on the same side as me, brought back memories of carrying a casket. Small steps, heavy load. November should definitely be renamed Shitber.