About Me

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I'm Ryan, and I don't particularly understand the importance of a Blog... but I'll Blog away anyway. Positively, it gives me a wall to talk to. I like having formation and fluency in my day. 'About Me'?... just read the Blog.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Bad Blood

Where I usually post lyrics, today I post the full damn song only because I like it so much. I always feel like a hack, honestly, leaving the lyrics up here all lonely. I doesn't do much of the music justice. Lyrics are great but they need a flow. This song, which I only heard for the first time today at 4:46, by one of my favourite artists, made me think "Gee whiz! This makes me feel nice."
... and so, to any and all who care, this song stands for something I can't say... and there are many things I can't say but this is one. Have a listen, if you care to trust me on its quality, and I'll be down below waiting for you to read my brain-scrawls.

The title is a quote from my 82 year old comrade. I may have mentioned this in the past, but here's a worthy reiteration;
During my daily walks, near my old Primary School, I see an old man. His name is Harold. Occasionally, he'll be sitting with his wife. I've never caught her name. Being at such an age, he has introduced himself to me many times. Nearly every day, after I ask him how he is he replies, idenitically, "Oh, I'm as good as a man can be going on 82". Lately, he has started saying 83 instead. I suppose he had a birthday. Last week, however, upon being asked how he was he replied "Buddy, I have some bad blood! That's what the doctor said. When I stand up, the blood goes to my head and I fall down." The bloodcaked scar on his forehead and his bloodshot eye, iris looking like a cracked egg, backed him up. I apologised, nervously, as though it were my fault... he walked along side me, on the other side of his fence, until he reached his wife doing the washing. As you can hopefully remember from the last post, my ankle was sore so I had to straighten up and try to look young and virile because I felt a stagger would be insulting considering the age difference. I had a strange, pimp-like stagger to cover it up... I must say, it was fun. After exchanging pleasantries I was on my way to do nothing in particular. School, I guess.


1 comment:

  1. You can't find the lyrics to this song anywhere on the internet. I like the song though.
    Sometimes I think that your whole life is some amazing story. It's somehow something really special that you have an 82-year-old friend. If your life was really a story, he would be a wizard and would give you his wizard hat. I often feel that way too, the way you felt about you staggering. For example when I have a slight accent in German and I talk to other foreigners who have a strong accent, I try to talk as "German" as possible because I feel they might think I was making fun of them. ^^