The Ballad Of Big Country, Part I Can't Remember Where I Left Off

Big Country and I are sitting in my backyard on a sunlit morning. Oh yes, just a youngish, earnest weirdo and toothless, blithering sociopath, caffeinated to the gills, lamenting our being unlucky in love.

I’m sweating through my free t-shirt from the Georgia Theater and offer something predictable in it’s thick-rimmed glasses emo-ness.

-Yeah, you know, when you’re evolving into your higher self the road seems lonely, but you’re simply shedding energies that no longer match the frequency of your destiny.

BC isn’t sweating through anything on account of his being shirtless.  

“Shit, I don’t need no woman, got me an electric blanket that keeps me warm in the winter.” 

-Yeah, you know, to find peace sometimes you have to be willing to lose the connection with the people, places and things that create all the noise in your life.

“Fuck’n A. I’m movin’ out country, buyin’ land, shootin’ deer and laughin’ all goddamn day.”

-Yeah, you know, I mean sometimes you need a break from everyone and spend time alone to experience, appreciate and love yourself.

“Right. And shoot deer all goddamn day.”

And so on, until Big Country loses interest and discards his now lukewarm coffee into the fire pit. 

“Trevor, I don’t know what the fuck it is you do, but I reckon you should keep doing it.” 

Farting loudly, he shuffles in the general direction of away from my house, not having been in a hurry since, well, why would you rush anywhere if you possessed all of life’s cheat codes?

If the Great Man decrees it, then it shall be so. I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on.