in honor of my latest rambling, i have to post the only performance of monuments and melodies which is preluded by riffing on the ever missed dave chappelle's bit on grape drink. which becomes a one off burst of energy called sugar, water, purple.
and thanks to my own silliness and this clip, i now cannot help but hum s.w.p. whenever i hear the breakdown in thieves, which has some of my new favorite lyrics despite sharing sounds with their outburst of silliness:
why should the thieves have all of the fun
selling us water by the river
they don't speak for everyone
i'm ready to run and you're making me crawl
selling us water by the river
they don't speak for me at all
their new album is my birthday gift to myself this year. if not now, when?
its been two months to the day since i last spoke with you. these long prolonged silences are the product of this very annoying associate of mine: life. she [you knew it would be a girl, right] creeps up on me and snatches me away. sometimes in flights of fancy and others in wallowing self pity. either way, i am away. far from the reaches of my profoundly close friend who listens and mirrors my true self. the keeper of my thoughts so that i never forget where i have been. never forget.
it makes me believe that when i leave it is not only life's fault but also my internal disassociation at play. as if i back away from my words like i will somehow outrun myself. that when i do come back around i will look upon these ramblings and shake my head as if to say, i know better now. in actuality, i reread things to remind, not remand my former self to the prison of youth and stupidity. i try not to judge her so harshly. also considering that when i do stray, her habits come roaring back. without my mirror, it is easy to reassume the position. to let idealism and optimism usurp my experiences.
i let emotions override what i already know.
often due to the fact that i never want to be someone who loses the ability to hope. to aspire to see the best in people and situations. i may complain but i will rise to the occasion on my own if need be. my complaints often stem from others' inability to be of their word. of others' ineptitude with things that i take such care to consider. not everyone can be held to such standards. it is a shame when you can see more in someone but never see it flourish. it stings in a way even more so for me, as i continually like to find solutions. i like to help. i like to hope. it may hurt but it will hurt a great deal more if i ever lose the ability to do so.
my hope is tethered to my curiosity. to that experimental side of my brain that likes to give chances and see what happens. the irony of such behavior is that i cannot control or wield the situation. i have to wait and see and no amount of poking or prodding will make it happen quicker. that is where the pain stems from. without such efforts, watching and waiting for results is fascinating and can slip from the radar completely if nothing happens. but when you leave the sidelines, and put your emotions and efforts into the act itself, pushing for your own victory, it consumes even if it is futile in the end.
the fighter in me does not like to sit idly by but she is learning when to let go and what battles are worth fighting.
being in familiar territory conjured similar feelings but yet not the exact same. i am different than i was before. i would even say better. because i am trying. when someone asks how i am, i say i'm good, i'm trying. i'm continually trying to be better. trying to be who i want to be, who others see me as. i recognize that i am of value and must be taken care of. when i saw that i was slipping into a carelessness with myself, i shook off my old writings and replayed the voices in my head from all those who value me saying that they love me, care for me, miss me, etc. the irony of this is that one of those voices came from the very place and person who assisted with me feeling how i did before. my perennial, continual kazoo hovering over my shoulder in my ear, in my heart telling me to have fun, to never forget what i've been through, to never doubt the love that is there for me. yet those lovely words are coupled with the same behavior and actions which undercut it all. it can't be both and at this stage, i cannot wait around to see which is real. i know what felt real to me, but feeling is not the end all be all. the door is never closed but i am not sitting up with the lights on and couch turned to face to the door either. it is improbable and not what either of us want. i may have written before that it couldn't happen but my optimistic idealist self dared to hope. i think she always will. and to be honest, i can't blame her.
it feels good to be connected. but whatever the formula is with us that allows that connection to flourish without have the adverse of effect something also decaying eludes us both, so i cannot focus on it. the strength of our magnetism is overwhelmed by everything else and begins not to have the sway it once did. so my mind shifts, to other pulls that drag me back to where i belong. back to the light and back to me. and as it always seems to be, music is the dominant force.
this time in the the form of incubus, who i can claim are my first favorite band. my adolescence belongs to make yourself and morning view. i fell in love again with light grenades in college and backtracked to a crow left of the murder and some songs from science. just when i needed it they reappeared and i realized how much i missed them. how long it had really been. despite their absence, there was an immediate familiar sense of joy when watching the video for adolescents.
there is something about them that spoke to me then and still does now. reading brandon boyd's notes completely hit how i feel about music. he said it perfectly and i realized thats what he always did. its like the way colbert and stewart manage to just say what i mean. reading his words felt like talking to a friend. and listening again now, is like looking into a mirror. they sound exactly the way i felt then and now. some songs will always hit home.
i suggest we learn to love ourselves
before its made illegal
when will we learn
when will we change
just in time
to see it all fall down
it felt like reuniting with old friends, which is what i needed. i needed to remember that girl who fell for them. that girl who would write for hours on end. who lusted for so much more than what was in front of her and dared anyone to tell her she couldn't have it. she wallowed but made it into art. into poetry. into thirst for knowledge. that thread runs through me and all those i admire. they all have glitches, quirks, flaws, scars but pursue beauty amongst it all.
my past is perilous
but each scar i bear sings
monuments to where i have been
and melodies to where i am going
how much more succinct could something so true be? i was in awe when i heard those lyrics and instantly thought i am one of those people. and i am so close. now it is not the time to lose focus. now is not the time for crippling fear.
now is the time for compassion, love, courage, empathy and thought.
i wrote that my empathetic heart was all over the world as i struggled with the juxtaposition of wanting to be informed but not wanting to be saddened. between famine, deadly protests, attacks in norway, passing of miss winehouse, and our country edging close to default, i lost it for a bit. it saddened me and still does. the death of amy hit me particularly because her music equates to my mid-college years and she is the first artist who spoke to me since my musical enlightenment that i have lost. i like many others rooted for her so vehemently. its odd to know she is not here. i can still sing her songs and hear her music and smile but it weighs on me. it made me think of all the others that will crush me when they go. it made me consider mortality in general. to think of her friends, family, and fans losing her so soon and with the full knowledge that she had more to give as a human being and artist. i am happy we have what she gave but of course disheartened that she's gone. not to mention those all over the world who are being lost. over and over and over. makes you value every time you inhale and exhale. every time you wake up.
its something that we live in such times that are equally frightening and fascinating. i chose this image specifically as it is my favorite painting by brandon but also because of the duality. she could be a drowning night terror or a soaring heavenly dream.
ascent or descent? all depends on how you look at it, right?
and thinking back on what i just wrote, i spoke as if i fell into this hole of my former life only to see nothing had really changed and climbed back out. there is cause and effect there. descent and ascent. both together, not either or. which i think is always the case if you can wait it out and pursue something higher, searching onward and upward during it all.
as song says, its just a phase...it will be over soon.