The Self-Importance of Eric Gallagher

The work of a sloppy writer and an even sloppier musician.


Are we not basically

Yes I just think that there was something that you wanted to

Say about

oh about the

Right it’s just so far

What we need is to maximize profit

Gain versus sweet revenue sweet gain trades and

Stock barns of red in the fields

Trapped things

Closed-off corners or wide open spaces


Wide wide open spaces wide open spaces wide open spaces

What is it

No that’s not the one

Right yeah the one with the back like that

No yeah that looks great

No yeah no



What a nice little prison you’ve built

Good thing no one else can see the walls

Mind flayed out

Look at the pieces

Look at how badly I want you to look

It’s here

It’s there

It’s everywhere

It’s dripping blood onto the smock

Deep red

Big container of pills

It’s running low

Shake it like a rattle

Rattle rattle rattle 

Can you buy me something nice

They’re all there in front of me

Running the motions

Finding themselves in mirrors of their operations

And I’m sitting there very confused

Like I’ve started a movie twenty minutes in

Did I miss something important?

I- Listen, man
We’re gonna be big
Real big
It’s just
There’s systems in place
All of tgem all of them
There are things to do
things to be done
So much
so much
And this is how it happens
oh god this is exactly how it happens
Just not tonight
Not tonight my love
If i could just work this transition
i know it were gonna be big

Another brief ego trip that tries to capture something completely transient in words that don’t actually mean anything.

You come across such singular people

Seeing such specific things

Wanting only

Echoing one

And you’re waiting

I know you’re waiting for someone

Built like a web

Pulled apart like thin cotton

Eyes open to full aperture

Taking you in vibrant colors

And the people who are older than you

Who might be wise

They are murmuring to you low vibrations

'Hold on, it gets better'

And they say it

As if they know some great, unspeakable secret

That this is all they can speak of it

If they were to say anything else they’d give it all away

'Wait, it's going to get better'

I should write something

It’s been a few days since I’ve written something

Here it is

The thing I wrote

Fuck everything

I could see our bitterness holding us all back. Even clearer in my line of sight was my own personal bitterness holding me back. If I could work that out, I knew we’d be getting somewhere. We’d all be getting somewhere. We’re only as good as our weakest link, only as good as our worst thoughts. So I dove into my bitterness, directed at others, at concepts and systems, and I could see the ways in which it had caused me to react hastily or negatively, or both, and how those reactions dug me deeper and deeper into a hopeless void of my own creation.

So the question then was, ‘How do I get out of here?’ I quietly watched my life floating by me, painted in negativity, all those faces, all those moments, marred by my inability to let go. The answer came more simply than the question, and it was just that. ‘Let go.’ As the phrase rang in my head, more bits of the puzzle became unstuck, and the answers flowed freely through me. ‘Stay calm.’ ‘Be present.’ ‘Listen.’ ‘Understand.’ ‘Love unconditionally.’ It was so simple. I didn’t like simple. But maybe it was time to start appreciating a little simplicity.