Its Just a Scratch.


As I listen my CD skipping and stubbing. It won’t work right but there are enough buttons on this fucking DVD / CD whatever player that it can and will break through it. It may have to take a few hauling laps around the groves but eventually this fucker will be victorious. Funny isn’t it. I love this CD, its old and I have listened to it many times but it hasn’t only kept me in a perfectly aligned brainwave state for much of my exotic work… it seems to be the gift that keeps on giving. This ole bastard is skipping though. Probably my fault for poorly scratching it’s multicolored, beautiful wings that make it shiny.

Well, unfortunately life will scratch you up and temporarily stop you. Similar to a bump in the road, the needle is simply you going around the perfect spiral of life periodically butting heads with the scratches and bumps with the CD. Similar to life, it is constantly moving outward. The average CD is 80 mins. Similar to the 80 years average life span. How many skips has this CD made it through in the first 43 mins of some pretty awesome music… probably at least 1 a minute all the way through. He and I are still here. He is singing to me, and I am writing to you. At 43 years old he is still hitting the road bumps, but what a rugged rounder this player is. You know.. they say "don’t hate the player, hate the game" (in the context usually of people that are "gamers’’ aka psychological manipulators when try to inoculate with another individual). But this seems to hold quite the opposite meaning in other life matter. Don’t hate the game, hate the player. Player 1, you are up and what happens to the little guy on the screen is up to you, not the programmers problem. The game is straight every time you power it up. We all have bumps. We all have a similar game opportunity to break through them.

CD is still rolling. Pretty impressive for his 46’th birthday. Thinking now though…it’s not about him anymore. Where do I stand? He is more than half way… its slowly becoming more of a play on my state of mind whether he will make it through or not. What if the bumps get worse and stops indefinitely?! What if he keeps going and makes it to 80 playing the tune he was supposed to play the entire way?! He is marching strong to the beat of his own drum that’s for sure. It’s not supposed to be about me but I’m becoming nervous. I have now been with him for 50 years of his life… he is getting on a bit, my old friend. He has past enough bumps in his life, so I guess I am sure he will make it now...

Sudden stop as I type to you. Silence in my apartment… 1:57 am. Is he just taking a moments rest or did all of the bumps and scratches get the better of him?

Seem he may be over. My fingers quivering to type you the play by play. I’m still waiting… small skip. Small skip. Wait. Small skip. Wait. Skip and play through. He revives at 51 and change. He moves but now I stare at him not wanting to blink as if my heart is beating in sync with his drums and when his drums skip a beat so do mine. I am thinking when he stops beating, so do I. We are in synchronization and I have to make a decision.

I am at a fork in the road. He will either make or he won’t. I am too vested in him at this point, he has certainly made his decision to keep going, and I must choose.

Ok. So, I briefly ponder… regardless of what just happened, he did just take a walloping of scratches and make it through it. Besides… most importantly… he stuck with me and you for 51+ minutes, so I am going to stick with him.

I get him. I understand that he has survived life and is wiser. He has played pretty strong, he has rolled through most of the beats and missed few seconds of the game. No scratches to bear for a solid 5 mins between 55 and 60. Living a good life, and I am right with him. Together we are strong. He will still play his beat until the end. I am in a nice state as we coast through to our 70’s and to the end place we know as completion of our purpose. Wow he is good, as for my thought and my typing flowing through these multiple windows on screens. I am relaxed as I embrace watching him effortlessly tackle the next stage in his life, with only the occasional scratch in his life, he is presumably relaxed and fearless too, his taking scratches seems quite effortless. Almost Regal.

A skip followed by a blur. An upwind, a pause and after a second small pause of hesitation he is moving ok.

He stops at 78. Fully stops. 2 minutes short. This happened before but I struggled to unfreeze him this time, I try to Fast Forward him to get him going like a shot jolt of caffeine or and Epipen. He is dead. Stuck. No, actually dead.

I Eject him… look at him. He could of stopped at 25 and ended up being yet another mere temporary distraction to my evening. But, he didn’t, and he wasn’t. He played every minute of an amazing 78 years and left his mark with me and others, I will give him that. I gently lay him in his case. I flip him to make sure his shiny name was on the end side of the CD case sticking out proud for all to see on display. Before I slide him into a rack amongst others…I look carefully at the back of his case. All rights reserved. Produced 2007. 78 mins.


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