Thank You To J. Loren From HURT

If you are blind or related to Paris Hilton, you may be rich, but certainly have not the ability to recall that I am a big fan of HURT and their new album. I was poking around for some more morsels about the foursome when I learned about how trying the recording process was for the album “Vol. 2”. If you have not, please check out their extremely cool website. HURT Website – Click Here, Piggies!

This makes it all the more amazing of him to have reached out and offered some of his time to NakedEric for an interview for this blog! Whilst we work on the particulars, please stay tuned (no pun intended) and support the band. I mean, what other band would answer a “shot in the dark” invitation for an interview from a guy named NakedEric? HURT does this for the music, the catharsis of performance, and for the fans. J.Loren’s response is proof that this is more than just rockstar bulldoody.

American Idol (Idle Americans) has NOT killed ALL of the real music! HURT is fun! YAY!

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How I Learned To Live – A Poem By Eric

How I Learned To Live

Down, even though my arms rise slowly above my soggy head
Gravity displays itself. Sweet music played in notes until too late, unaware
Despair is peaceful dealing with pressures triggered by the heart
Those who love can feel this way
Only those who can love can feel this pain
As if three hundred years were not enough, the rolling of us counts on stories
Written in the shore. Too much water and they’re washed away
Afraid to make a stand
The past is cast for angels here so we can understand
Pressing through the surface, I was bathed in familiar pain, in water
The sun had just begun to shave light clippings from the day
Now adrift, the silence complimented the fear
Of the deepest, darkest, place I knew
Would it be like the bottom here?

In childish tones I thought of you. Your face and how it should look today.
I’m sure you’re off winning like you do. Your casual demand for life
You drink it at every well.
So many are your soul’s delights. You shared me with them for a while.
I love you so very much for that. I want to kiss you on the face.
I want to look into your eyes.
Again I begin this list of things I want to do before I die.

The skeptics argue about life after death when it’s so plain for us to see
When you pass, you are a memory, your life a picture for all to see
Well-lived it can be magic
Bravely conquered it can be fantastic
Long after the pangs of grief file away into their proper holes
The golden life is elevated into the sky like a bird
And you glimpse it with different eyes.
This is the afterlife about which we grumble and debate.
I like it because it’s one you earn.
Give all you can in life and you’ll be given posterity in return
Be gentle, kind, and giving while you’re here among the living.
These powerful gestures hold us up while we’re here
Then when we’re gone romantic eyes look back at these kind pieces of your soul
These are what they remember. That is, if you care to practice life this way.
No mire from the liars will make to this tome, but suffice to say, if you live with greed
Greed leaves you to die but all alone

I know that time always attacked me like a pack of wolves
Each hungry, biting, chewing me bit by bit, until I had no more flesh to give
And strange as it seems, when the world pushed me down to drown
It’s when I truly learned to live.