Don’t Cry…
I dont normally blog when i dont have anything written to share… As im not much on blogging as i am about writing. But, you ALSO know (if you know me at all) that im extremely sensitive aurally, and that music is the reigning force in my life.
Recently though a chance encounter (not even an encounter, i just decided to get my condescension on in a debate about the struggle for equality in legal marraige) and i came across this fantastic recording by someone also participating in the discussion. She’s a local Syracusian (currently, anyway) and participates at Open Mic Nights somewhere on Thursdays. Im not in advertising, so if you like the tune go here: Nikki’s Facebook.
Why does this song hit me so much? For one, im obviously a sucker for a powerful voice. Poppish as Kelly Clarkson might be, if i was in the room when she sang the way she does, id probably sign over the keys to my house. Sometimes i hate how much my ears rule my life. All of my memories are auditory, and that TOTALLY fucks with me when people come and go from my life… Because i can still HEAR everyone of you. :( Its tough to explain. Its not “hearing voices” its “hearing memories.” But its a haunt nonetheless. A lot of people have never understood why it becomes necessary for me to just walk away sometimes, and maybe if i could mute a memory i wouldnt have to. But to hear someone voice resonate in person, and have it push every memory of that same sound in my mind, its just bad news sometimes, and i protect myself from it by walking away. Sad, but its an honest truth.
But the lyrics get to me too, on this recording. The song (Im told its written by Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin) reminds me of the same questions i always ask about my day, and about who i am. Ive known a lot about goodbyes, and ive known a lot about wondering what it is about me, and about other people, that has made things turn out the way they are.
As such, i suppose there is one i can share. Its not one im overly fond of, not like some of the others. Pushed to Shove and Ready to move have quickly become favorites to me, which is terrible because they were born in some of the worst circumstances in my life. (On that note, Saturday is my trek to Indy to pick up the Resurrection. Its fitting that it will be Black on Black. And this one will be different. The stereo will be grand, itll be Low, itll be Loud, and itll be Fast. Having saved my life once, i now want to turn this car in to everything i can dream up in my mind.)
River Wild (back on topic) just came about when someone asked me a stupid question (sandy…):
If you had to pick between a relationship that was entirely and comprehensively laced with passion and fire, but was also (consequently) tumultuous; or between something much less engaging and whirlwindish, but perhaps a but more stable… Which would you choice? Idiot that i am, im sure you could guess which way i leaned.
And i had a conversation with my great friend Kelly recently arguing one more point on this front: I just dont consider myself that Crazy. I really dont, but i suppose perception is Reality Perceived, and it doesnt matter much what think, now does it? River Wild doesnt have the angsty rhythm i enjoy in a lot of mine, and im not sure why. Too many questions to bother asking, lol…
Isnt life a pretty vision when we only Deal in Dreams,
When we sing and laugh and praise and learn it isnt what it seems?
Isnt living worth the giving when were blinded by the heat?
When deciding that were riding means there isnt a retreat?
We could waver in our minds, and we could always venture back,
As people of the different kinds, and what those people lack,
And maybe theyre the smartest as theyve never felt the lick,
Of the fire that hits hardest; though that fire makes you tick.
The question posed, supposedly: the river or the lake?
Where one is but a rollercoaster, one maybe- mistake.
And one is all serenity; but calm, never engaging.
A subtle price (but maybe nice) if youre notfor the raging
Suppose the scary, took the wary, never towards the ill;
And passion led in to the bed, intoxicating thrill.
If trust was more, the opened door, you knew the river well,
Keys unlocked, with love well stocked, you would be sure to tell
Such river that the giver could, give all, and not be hurt
Although such rivers push us hard, river’s always alert.
Of dealing with the feelings so we never swim without,
The safety net, we always bet, were safe, without a doubt
And maybe lakes are always calm, the water always sound as glass
And maybe at the stilling sight, were tempted then, to take a pass
The river wild, immature child, although it fires all our hearts,
Is just a threat, an unsafe bet, and so the lake’s appealing starts
For water calm, assuring psalm, the solidarity in soul,
Assures us grace, when in the face, of daring love to take its toll
But i say see, whats in to thee, and be ready to stand, deliver.
Life in passion, knows no ration, life worth living, wild river.
The curse of the OverKnow… And where have i been?
I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago… Ironic that its a Saturday night and i will chastise myself for being awake past 10:30… But tomorrow is a nice bike ride around Onieda Lake for the American Diabetes Association. (That was the bike set up for last year… when i got lost, whoops!) Its also ironic that i am both- too busy to write about whats on my mind, but too bored to be able to let it go, as well.
Im suffering from what i call OverKnow, and its because of these godforsaken computers. Ill tell you, its always ASSumed that im the technology proponent, advocate, and evangelist… Largely because that *IS* my job all week. Im the Holy-Roller-of-Tech in the office, and with wild eyes and bewildering enthusiasm, i try to move people in to the future. And yet… All things equal and constant, i would return my profression to the days of hand drawing and phone calls, and would abandon the hypertechnology all tomorrow. But i digress: I like communication. Im starved for it, and i miss having people close to me that i can and want to talk to alot. But, it comes with a price: Suddenly you get to know everything about the people you DONT want to know anything about. Thats not all bad, but its gotten me thinking about all the people in my life that have come and gone. The 9 months i was on Long island were a dark part of my life… But ill tell you, they were a QUIET part too. No cell phone, no internet, no FaceBook, no IM.
Throughout the years ive struggled with faith, and fate, and random chance, and predestination. Ultimately ive comforted myself with the knowledge that there is no knowledge, and that it doesnt matter if or what i believe, as hard as that is. Having said that, there is ONE chapter in my life, we all agree i need to leave behind. It left me behind long ago, but a recent discussion i had with Mike startled me: Following my recent rude awakening, he told me he hoped this was the wake up call ive needed since 2004, because hes just watched me spiral more and more since that time. This was ironic for two reasons: When the car was destroyed, i went to get my belongings. 
There was a CD from 2004 sitting on the floor, and i picked it up. Then i realized what Mike said, and decided to leave it in the car. I should bury the past there. Well folks… I shit you not: The Salvage Yard mailed it back to me. “Thanks, we’ll keep your car… And mail back the ghosts from your closet…” Predestination aside, what the hell do i do with THAT? I laughed about it, and put it back in the CD player. Then today, came more information OverKnow: someone actually sent me recent pictures of someone from the past, and i was mindblown. Truth be told im not upset, i wanted to see them. But man, it makes you stop and wonder all over again… What the fuck keeps going wrong in my life?
Ive been able to take my old walks again, which gives me at least 30 minutes of respite to think every day. I walk under these overpasses and i absolutely love them. So many things about them are great, as ugly as they are. I love them even more when its pouring out. But anyway… Ive had time to think. I have to say, all perception aside, i just dont believe im that difficult to be around. I think im obnoxious, and i think i can be a handful, but im honestly coming to terms with the fact that i only do it as some people expect it. The people ive been happiest around, ive been the least… Crazy, too. But, it gets me to thinking about my disposition. Ive done my time self evaluating, and i know where the problems are with me, and i know where they are with you (lol). But starved-for-attention be damned, im too stupid to stop from getting wrapped up when i shouldnt. And then, im reminded of why that bothers me. Its nowhere near a favorite (i hate it), but its fitting… And i dont have time to write these days. :( Circa March, 2008.
“Three Dropped Passes”
Tell me that you do not mind, when the monologue is short,
And tell me when I say it wrong, that you wont discount rapport
Promise me, when grace aside, and you I accidentally slight
That you wont run, you wont succumb, that we wont have to have a fight
For I’m not always elegant, my mouth sometimes an open gate,
And sometimes though I stop myself, I stop myself a second late
And then I found I’ve hurt someone, my lovers and of course my friends
And though I fight like hell for that, I just cant seem to make amends
And though there’s beauty in the raging, passion in the wildfires,
Those that praise the fire starters, rarely stay for what transpires
Through the heat and in the smoke, and with the blinding orange sear
Though they light it, then they leave it (so im left, alone in here)
The hardest part of hurting many, is the way it’s never dealt,
On purpose, as I write this, there is hurting, that alone I felt
As I sent the words mistaken, never meaning to deliver
Such a blow that knots in stomachs, such a fate to make lips quiver
Catalyzing tears such plenty, reigning down on all emotion,
Lost control, naïve in knowing, history will bring commotion
With a heart that feels too much, a mind learned always to defend it,
(Am I to engage your lives, and kill us, so we cannot mend it?)
Times too many, times not talking, times not worth the searing pain,
And though I know the fault lies in me, in me lays the same refrain,
Wondering, so accidental, what skill is born of words and phrases,
Who would grant such weaponry? (to me of all, the thought amazes)
Then I wonder who will listen, when I preach my sorries ’round,
Who can listen time again, when time sees me again unbound
As the hurting look in anger, some in fear, all in regret?
When their not hurt by what was said, but by the fact… That we had met.
