Just Trying to Keep My Head Together, Man...

Drying out and winding down after another convulsive gig, this time at Cinéma Oblò in Lausanne. My head is an infinite plateau of trip-hammers, and I have grown quite fond of the 3 Euro Paracetamol script I scored in Valencia. Coughing yields headaches which trigger tectonic plate deformations. The "grip" is the Dennis Miller of respiratory maladies - unfunny as fuck, but too entrenched within whorls of septic banality to allow itself to be expunged from the system. Tired of having six broadaxes lodged in my skull....

More in the AM,

TS

Comments

Anonymous said…
Tom- Are you getting your proper nutrition, as compared to your vegan diet in the states? Any good food that you'll remember for a long while?
ommyth said…
The eats have been suitable-to-exceptional, with Italy the obvious highlight. Simple, elegant, perfect... (The human analogy would be the women of France, at least the chic ones, with their near-invisible make-up and flat black shoes that emphasize bearing and composure over power and its corollary, submission.) Nah, the main culprit has been performance-related stress. I lose a couple of pounds each show; I always end up soaked from head to toe. An irregular, inevitable regimen of hot/wet/cold/warm has taken its toll on me... I haven't been ill since immediately after the Copenhagen gig, but the 16 tons of phlegm remaining in my lungs ensure the manic hacking attacks. Coughing for five-plus weeks tends to engender the odd near-migraine. I hate taking pills for pain, but sometimes - especially last night - the fucking grind gets to me...

Thanks for writing, Nathaniel.

Cheers,

TS

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