You ever wonder why your friends are your friends? It generally starts with shared interests, then shared memories, then shared secrets. But what holds those friendships together? What happens when those shared interest wain? When Life events start to, inevitably, pull you from similar paths. when secrets are out in the open? What is left but a shared past and a desire not to be alone. How tenuous it all seems. How fleeting. You step from day to day. Maybe looking forward to something, the next book in a series, the next album. We fill our lives with such trivia. Our friends are still there, living their lives. You remember them, and maybe talk to them occasionally but your lives are no longer intermingled. Not day to day. Holidays, birthdays. Remind yourself to stop and chat. forget. You’ll have tomorrow. Day by day, drifting apart but fooling yourself into believing they are still a part of your life. Because you need them there, occupying that headspace. Just another piece of the social tapestry, the illusion of our lives. I could make the case that you should call them now; reconnect. But really, if you were going to do that, you would be doing it. No impetus from me would be necessary. So the decision time comes. To maintain the social fiction, OK but not happy. Ok but saddened. Broken and not mending; Or to forge new friends, to share your life with. Easier said than done. Perhaps there is a third choice, but the only one I see is death. For me, a solution I often see first. Maybe you know what the third choice is? I just can’t see it.
Month: August 2014
Laying in bed, overthinking
I had a different post for Friday but then on self examination of the day, this emerged. And this hurts more emotionally, so it gets predecence.
I ask you why you smile at me; are seemingly joyful at my countenance because it is less painful to me to think you are just goofing around. That you could not possibly be simply happy at my arrival. If I’m being brutally honest, it’s because in the past those who looked at me that way, were in love with me. And to see it on someone else’s face, who does not feel that aches. Especially with my Intuition screaming at me, that if I were other than I am and you were other than you are, then that look could be real. A quarter turn from reality. So instead I pretend that such a look does not delight some foolish part of me, that I am suspicious of it, like such is a jest. And walk away, hoping that on my return, that smile will be gone. While some foolish hopeless part hopes it is real. (and real in the way that I knew it)
Fragment
This is a fragment that started Ok then got bogged down.
Though I may stand before the gates of heavens or hells,
I will remain resolute
A guardian against the predation of the powerful. Against those who promise riches, of one kind or another. Which causes a narrowing of the scope of human endeavor, placing restraints and restrictions on its progress.
In passing
I ponder sometimes the methods by which I’ve been rejected or rebuffed.
The straight forward “Not interested” is the best. There is no wiggle room, no space for hope in that. Just fact. I wish there was more of that.
The online dating reply of silence – it’s the passive form of the not interested. Just as good, but with some space for fantasy.
Edit:I’ve decided that no this option is hell. Just say not interested people.
The “it’s not you, it’s me”, these are the “nice” let downs. These are killers. You walk away feeling like it is indeed you and if you are weak you try to change, but inevitably, just make it worse. Whatever IT is.
The “I’m not in the right headspace for dating”. Just no, this leaves the poor bastard swimming after you on the hook. Unless that was your intention, in which case you earn an askance look and a “that’s fucked up”.
The “I just want to be friends”. If true then it is a valid stance. But only from your side. The person asking you has already stepped beyond that, in my experience, and can’t really go back to that frame of mind. They will always want that something more. The only cure is if they find someone else on their own. On their own emphasized, if you hook them up then if it falls apart they will be right back with you. After all you cared. In this it is like feeding a stray cat, they will come back.
The insult. “you’re too fat, ugly, tall, skinny, gloomy, serious, funny” For me this is as good if not better than the straight not interested. You jump directly into fuck them mode, which makes it so much easier for me to walk away. I know it can backfire though if the person is not strong enough. To the weak willed or inexperienced this is taken as a suggestion to change and tragedy ensues.
This has been another installment of passing thought becomes post. Thanks for reading.
2:30 AM
There was a time when I slept on the right side of the bed. Almost like I was subconsciously training to sleep in the same bed with a partner. I can’t remember when I started sleeping in the middle of the bed. It seems significant now in the silence of two thirty am. A signpost to loneliness. I wonder now, how much of me is my shell. What I’ve lost by being incapable of casual. A brooding presence, slowly pulsing, a gravitic constant dragging those around me down. Too serious and too odd by turns. A lifetime hiding my desires. Poet, Tabletop gamer, RPG gamer, Scifi/fantasy reader, penguin lover, Pansexual, Priest of an ancient and mostly forgotten religion, Speaker to gods, Scholar of societies, Empathic, BDSM switch, Cynical, Hopeful, Will worker, Intelligent, Arrogant and Lost. I am all these things and more and more and more…. 2:30 AM.
Uncomfortable
As a poet, if I find myself doubting that I should post something I’ve written, even if its a rant or a brutal self examination, the fact that I am uneasy, means I should publish it. This is happening more and more often as I write something and schedule it. As the day approaches I range from feeling uneasy to excited; Maybe that is a good thing. At least I hope it is a good thing.
Mirrors
We dropped out of the sky, in the middle of the day. Our journey was harrowing but we made it. Through fire and abyssal cold, we fought through. And we saw them there, Scurrying about like an overturned anthill. To stop them from the thing they would do. The thing they had done over and over, which had caused the death of so many world’s. We laid waste to their cities, slaughtered them like the monsters they were. Until they unleashed the weapons we knew they had, until they awoke the powers and revealed themselves. We lost a hundred thousand heroes that day. As the enemy rejoiced in their ‘trumph’, we began the real war.
Prelude to Wednesday
2:30 AM is a horrible and glorious time, like a good whipping. Painful and breathe catching.
Country song?
This is a song I wrote that was based on one I heard in a dream. It’s intended to be a country song. We did practice it for several months but never got it right. The back and forth may be too complicated and may require 2 dedicated singers not playing
instruments.
It is a song about living with the uncertainty of a child that is serving in the armed forces. And it would not be a song in my repertoire if it weren’t bleak in some measure. Honestly, this is the most forlorn song I’ve written to date.
Coming home
Sung as a duet
Male and female
Someone might be coming home (male)
We set out three places at the dining room table cause (duet)
Someone might be coming home (male)
We made too much down home food (female)
Cause someone might be coming home (duet)
Our glances meet across the table (duet)
someone might be coming home (male)
Our eyes filled with hope tinged sorrow (female)
Cause someone might be coming home (duet)
I mow the lawn (male)
I wash the dishes (female)
(sotto voice) someone might be coming home(duet)
A car passes by, our hearts lift up (female)
Someone might be coming home (duet)
(entire section female, sung without hope) Our glances meet across the table
someone might be coming home
Our eyes filled with hope tinged sorrow
Cause someone might be coming home
(entire section male, sung with deep sorrow) We set out three places at the dining room table cause
Someone might be coming home
(next 2 entire sections, duet) I mow the lawn
I wash the dishes
(sotto voice) someone might be coming home
A car passes by, our hearts lift up
Someone might be coming home
It’s been so long since we’ve heard
Someone might be coming home
A knock on the door, a ring of the bell
Someone might be coming home
A fresh manicured lawn(male)
a warm summer morning (female)
Someone is, (pause) home (duet)
Someone is forever home. (duet)
City of masks
Another song for my band
City of masks
To plunge through the past
Into the future
Into the future
They say, to stay out of the darkness
To walk in the light
For us, we are not so fortunate
We can’t walk in the bright
Welcome to the City of masks
Watch us twirl
Watch us dance
We are the shadows remembered
The shadows at dawn
We walk out of the morning
On into the night
Welcome to the City of masks
See us twirl
See us dance
We make ourselves from the broken pieces
See our smiles, see our faces
We are, the lost and forgotten
The walkers in night
For us, we are so fortunate
We won’t walk in the light
Welcome
Welcome to the City of masks
Join our dance