Tuesday, 2 May 2017

So long. . .

So long to you, to me, to us, to what was, never will be, cannot be, never meant to be. . . 

You've made me into someone
Who should not hold a loaded gun
And now you sit upon my chest
Knock out my wind, knock out my best

When you go to look back on your life and reflect on all of the things that happened to you, like a movie highlights reel or something akin to a "this is your life" of all the crazy things and people that made you feel a certain kind of way, what images and sounds will people expect to see?  There have been a lot of people who have come and gone in my life, as transient as seasons that come and go in those same times of the year.  The thing with seasons though is that you accept that they are only there for a short amount of time, welcome them when they arrive and bid them a fond farewell when their time is up before ushering in the next season with equal amounts of exuberant enthusiasm and and anticipation.  Have there been people who have seemed like they turned you into someone who cannot be trusted with a loaded weapon?  They could have helped to put the weapon in your hands or better yet, they could have taught you how to shoot, teach you how to aim and know how to see other prey should you even want to shoot.  Why do we let ourselves get knocked out in this way?  Let ourselves become winded, have our breath taken away by the shocking things that people say or do - pretend that the unnatural things that people say or do, become so part of the normal fabric that furnishes our lives?

And so long to no disasters and mornings too
And so long to ever-afters, so long to you

What are we saying goodbye?
People that we no longer want to be around or have conveniently drifted away from us anyway?
What would it mean to bid farewell to no disasters and mornings?  Would our lives be better off without disasters to remind us just exactly how good we do have it, and without mornings that make us loathe getting out in the morning, particularly during winter when we just want to stay snuggled up tight in our cosy beds and just stay there until the weather improves and warmer seasons naturally arrive at our doorsteps?

I am soft for only you 
Impale me with your tongue, it's true
And slices of me piled high
The same old me to the naked eye
But I can't find myself tonight

Why do you only ever lay yourself vulnerable to certain people?  What is it about them that you allow to have power over you? What other people would perceive as having power over you, only actually looked that way because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable and feel in the first place?  When we let people impale us with their tongues, it could be the words that they say that stay ringing in our ears, because if they impaled us physically with their tongues, I can't imagine that would be a very enjoyable experience (just saying!).  Why do we let people inflict pain on us with their words.  They could easily inflict pain on you without words, because there's nothing worse as nothing being addressed, nothing being said because you can't possibly talk about things that never happened, it's just too hard and because nothing ever really happened, it barely even existed.  How do you find yourself stacked high enough so people can still see you, even when you're trying to be inconspicuous and hide yourself in a room?  I guess it just depends on whether people are able to see the 'real you'.

And so long to no disasters and mornings too
And so long to ever-afters, so long to you

I hope that you find the peace of mind that you're seeking.  When I write these blog posts, I don't speak to anybody in particular, although it might come across that each blog post 'speaks' to you because you find messages in here that resonate strongly with you (that's the point really, just find something that you can connect with).  If you don't believe in ever-afters and want to say goodbye to those fairytale dramas, then that's great, if that's what you want to do.  I don't know how I feel about fairytale stories in general though; the damsel in distress, the reliance on a male riding in to save you and take you away from the horrible life you live to start a new life with better adventures.  I guess I'd just like to say goodbye to the old me from yesterday and today, because with each new day that arrives, I am not quite the same as I was the day before.  People remember you from the last time you spent time together and hold fast to memories that you created from a shared experience.  But when you are on your own, can you trust yourself to remember experiences as vividly as you would in a group because you are the only one there?  Not saying that the experience didn't happen at all because you are your only witness, but just that maybe that seeing as we are bidding farewell and so long to these ever-afters that it is time to also bid so long to you. . .