Thoughtful

Just listening to Ani's song "Pulse" and I start to pull back into myself once again.

I would offer you my pulse, I would give you my breath...


Line, after line, after line, the soft and repetitive lyrics are almost like a lullaby.  But not for children, they wouldn't understand what this kind of loneliness is like.  I don't even know who this lullaby is for, or if I could put a label on what this feeling is like.

All I know is that it sucks you in, and it sucks you in for a good 14 minutes.


We lie in our beds, and our graves
Unable to save ourselves from the quaint tragedies we invent 
and then undo
from the stupid circumstances 
we slalom through  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZjwJ0pjAwR4

What am I doing here anymore?  Why did I decide to leave everything I know and love to come to a place where I am most often alone.  I suppose we are always alone though, no matter where we are.  No one else would ever truly be able to live a day in your shoes.  Maybe that seems pessimistic, maybe that seems far too realistic...maybe it's just too much.  I am getting tired of going through this life so alone though, tired of sifting through new people every 6 months, of having absolutely no stability.  Of the roller coaster that is life, ups then downs, because like gravity, everything falls again.

How do you create stability?  How do you create a building on a sinking marsh?

I cannot help but think that I cannot continue to run away from anything anymore, but I am too terrified to face it.  I am tired of fighting against myself, of telling myself to be happy, of constantly reminding myself of my flaws.  I talk too much, I'm too pushy, I blame others for my shortcomings, I'm impatient, I don't treat others as well as I should, I am jealous because I cannot find the goodness in myself that I always seem to find in others. It's not that I don't want to like myself, it's that I don't know how to accept anyone's love, let alone my own.  

Good god.  What an angsty post.  I'm stuck in a funk, and it's not got Parliament on a psychedelic ship of rocking bass tunes to pull me out. Maybe it's just the winter blues, or maybe it's just the reality of the fact that the world is a fucked up, dysfunctional place and that my idealism to find the goodness in people in fact is a fallacy of my own accord to help me to function.

Who knows?

All I know, is that it is currently January 11, 2011.  I know that tomorrow, I will wake up, play along with social niceties, teach my catholic girls about some "American Culture" shit that no one cares about, and will come home to my empty apartment, to an empty heart, to empty dreams that may or may not ever come true because what is life it isn't a dream?

In the words of Joey Goebel,

"Get up.  Time to rock it like a honeysuckle metermaid.
Time to face the nightmare day.
A lot of assholes depend on you."