In the Big rock candy mountain, for those of you that haven't heard it, to sum it up, its about a Hobo finding his own positive realm he trails off, talking about foiled jails, cigarette trees, and bulldogs with rubber teeth, cops with fake legs, and hens laying soft boiled eggs and then troubles of him reflected all over the songs. You can almost hear the pops and white noise of the old school record player skipping through the wording of the old man, those kind of songs keep me listening.
Anyways, we all seem to want our big rock candy mountain, I noticed the man doesnt complain about bills, cheating husbands, traffic tickets, or anything of the modern world, it seems as if troubles follow us wherever we roam. Even in simpler times, without many things, where you worked hard for your dollar, and people loved eachother and didnt complain about modern noises, they had hardcore troubles.
I could assume this man had been in jail for robbery, or maybe spitting his tobacco on the shoe of a sheriff. Assumingly not throwing a cup of acid in someones face or running someone off the road who irratated them. He worries of the cops and the pesky bulldogs, has some sort of notoriaty in the town square, and other then that, dreams of his own personal utopia in another world. He wanders, watches his imaginary fallen cigarettes off of the trees, and is probably immutable on finding his next meal while he roams and dreams.
I once told someone, that living in a fantasy world and thinking up my ideas and dreams is just about the only thing that makes me jubuliant. It seems as if, every once and a while, we have to find our own "big rock candy mountain" in our head to escape our realities.If only at the preface of our lives, we can just plan out and keep what makes us happy, unfortunately, life isnt always puppies and chocolate bars and airports and sunshine, its a lot of dog shit, duck shit, and dead rodents as well. I wish at times i could find my mental airports in real life, and at times, i can. I have trouble supplementing what to tide myself over with in the meantime. In the mist through the dog hair, I do my best to find the enthusiastic dog that made that lovely mess that i have to premably take a lint brush too. In the dying eyes of another person losing their life, you have to see the light they are headed towards and the no-pain they will be setting themselves free with. Life is sometimes all about perspectives, but I truely believe, some people can only handle so much.
I admit i am more of the lucky ones ,especially all ive seen, and nothing makes me more sick the one of the "lucky" ones trying to cheer up those less fortunate. So shut the fuck up Holly...right? no. I too have to escape the daily drab, the shit that makes me sick to do all the time, the repetitive motions, and the disrespect from many that follows it. I often feel like shit as a person, for my mistakes, just like that child that put a nail in the wooden wall for every mean thing he had ever done. Yeah, once he stopped, he pulled each nail out, but there were holes all over the door masking the scars of all of his mistakes. I too have my walls, I have bulldogs trying to get a bite out of my ass, and demons in my own closet as well. I aint fucking perfect, life aint fucking perfect, and if i got a slap for every mistake i made, id make Rhianna post-Chris Brown look really really good.
It's a struggle to find happiness, it is, no idea why, im sick of people saying "its your perspective, its your perspective" because for al ong time, im happy, im fine, then the wreck of the unemployment bug hits me, i need a ride across town, or something. Then the attacking begins, i turn into my own bulldog with steel teeth, fuck the rubber teeth, and i fucking cut loose and tear apart what stands in my path. Not in an accomplishing way, more of a destructive, dark, sort of way. I get insubordinate with how I should be and have been, sometimes self destructive, and quite affronting, especially if I feel your partially to blame. I have and tried and tried to do what i want to accomplish in life, and sometimes, no usually, helping others and my own efforts aside from that, stands in my way.So, thats my problem, back to the song and its interpretation, and perspective and all that shenanigans.
This is the unknown verse of this song (courtesy of Wikipedia), that I find very admirable, everyone has felt like they have hiked and hiked for rock candy, and have found no such thing and fuck hiking anymore.
The punk rolled up his big blue eyes And said to the jocker, "Sandy, I've hiked and hiked and wandered too, But I ain't seen any candy. I've hiked and hiked till my feet are sore And I'll be damned if I hike any more To be buggered sore like a hobo's whore In the Big Rock Candy Mountains."
I wish we could all get in that happy, blissful, state of mind, where we feel all euphoric and enter a mind realm of utopia, sing about cigarette trees and hung the man that invented work, and paddled in a lake of stu, walked into a tin jail that we could walk right out of. What does it take to make us feel like that all of the time? are we stuck in this reality of our own problems that drag our spirits and satisfactories down hill in a slide?We are past the point of our biggest problems stepping in tobaccy spit, train hopping in hopes that the boxcars are all empty, and running from deputy dog. The modern problems are where we are at in life, if we are doing what makes us happy, if in satisfactory lies US, and living life to the fullest without the daily bullshit that we cannot get rid of dragging us down . This perspective shit can only take you so far, but we are the key to our own happiness, the lock is within us, there are plenty of happy hobos still wandering out there, we need to find that inner blissful, drunken, hobo within us that lives in a beautiful world inside ourselves.
Mine lately, has been ideas and inventions,they lead to other thoughts and for some reason, make me give myself my infamous slight grin that sprinkles my spirit, Of course, spending times with people that make me laugh is priority to all. Thats the happy hobo side of me, thats my big rock candy mountain. (which i just realized is very amusing being that my nickname from J and K is Hobo)
I do my best not to think about the future, it really just kind of hurts me, i try to take these mind supplements to tide me over and make me go to bed screaming "now that was fucking awesome!!!!" (the 5 word phrase that once screamed to me DETENTION in a time period long ago)
Where is your big rock candy mountain? the simple things in life that we can change on a day to day basis, I hope you find it ,sometimes on my irrationally angry days, i cant really find it, but who can keep a mutual feeling or emotion the entire time? I learn to keep it in without "bottling" it, and not let it out to others, and am doing pretty fucking spiffy with that these days. Anyways, I hope you find that moment of bliss, not that you have to escape reality, but creating something, or watching or doing something that really tickles your innerds.
Here are the lyrics to this song i referenced in this writing piece, it kind of trails and runs on sentences like I do, I Love this song, from one of my favorite movies "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?" This song was from the 1920's, it is called The Big Rock Candy Mountains and the version I love is sung by Harry McClintock.
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turningI'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and seeThe Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the beesAnd the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
::whistle solo::
I'll see you all this coming fall
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
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