Mystery Pills

Flex keeps pill bottles all over the house, and it's become something of a joke.  We call them his "mystery" pills, because none of us know what they do, and even though he'll tell you otherwise, Flex doesn't really know what they do, either.

While cleaning the house today, I decided to take one of them, and now I find myself feeling all at once inspired, anxious, powerful and yet somehow dangerously unstable.  Because I'm done cleaning the house, and because I still have nervous energy, I've started cleaning my computer hard drive.

Amidst the thousands of truncated documents, I found this:

"Miss somebody so desperately that you feel it in the corners of your eyes like tears, but there are none, and in the top of your throat like something to swallow, but there is nothing, and in your chest like a bruise.  Let the pain of that loneliness keep you awake at night, awake on the side of some freeway, somewhere, and let the cars drive by and hiss and whistle and think of all the places they are going to and of the people they’re going home to and think of how you are going nowhere and fast.  Then call her, and hear her voice like something very real and close and be hurt together."

I wrote that while on tour.  Now, a lot of people have been asking when I'll be going back out on the road, and let me say here and now that no amount of mystery pills, beer or money would ever make me want to go back there.