The Curse (and Blessing) of Sentimentality and Symbolism
I am the owner of a sea-green glass bangle. It's beautiful, iridescent, and actually fits past my gigantic hand to nestle close against my "I'm With CoCo" rubber bracelet. Symbols of two great loves nestled close to my pulse. It tinkles like a bell when it makes contact with a buggy or cart while I'm at work. It fills my chest with inescapable warmth. Warmth, like the warmth that lingered on my lower back for hours on end one morning. But not only is it beautiful, sentimentality and symbolism tangle it tight within my heartstrings.
And when I noticed the joint where it was fused upon creation split at the beginning of church the other day, I was relieved that crobat_lover would be leaving the choir soon enough to sit by me and silently console me.
I bought some windshield repair stuff, had it on the counter to repair it when I got up the guts. Then Cricket was knocking something around. I go over. It was the bangle. In twain. Two large pieces, but a few splinters of turqoise beauty were in the floor with it, too. My heart hitched then plummeted into arrhythmia like a struggling hummingbird.
...It must be fixed I will kill Cricket why must this happen to one of the most beautiful gifts I've ever recieved I still love but I can't wear it to work anymore I have to put it on my wall so it is safe and still together but how can I still make my position my feelings my stance on this known does it still need to be known or is it best private and unsaid like secrets...
Then... Symbolism attacked, like the double-edged sword it is.
It is the bayonet I raise in the dark for all the human race*. For all emotions, returned and neglected, all Romeos and Juliets and fatal attractions, all hearts that shouldn't love each other that become close in a town much like a prison cell*.
What if the love behind that bangle has finally been broken? The motive behind it gone? The unspoken promises that made it gleam all the more vibrantly extinguished? Not on my end, but... On the other? I can't bear to think that is possible, that is true, but that the broken love lies with the "rightful" owner of the bangle. What broke (or has broken) there?
If I become unloved--unlovable--Destined to revert back into 片想いmode, which is full of self-hate and obesity and poverty and sickness and death*, what then? Sagittarians are wrapped up in sentimentality, are so loyal and sincere it can kill them oh hello there, trufax, nice to see you again, and are passionate. The symbolism interconnects with how much value Sagittarians put on relationships and tending to the most vital ones.
But, on the other hand, it was repaired. Put back together. Imperfectly, yes, as to be expected when something broken is mended, but never the same. Had those feelings been cracked, broken, and mended again?
It can still be worn, but with excessive care. And especially not at work. The bangle, the love, is still there, it still exists, it still forms the circular shape which the creator intended. And because its fragility is known, it shouldn't be worn. Yes, I still love it and want to wear it, but now I know its limits. Now I know I can't without dire risk of utterly destroying it, so I must take care.
I can still hold on to this artifact of love. Taking out the empire, watching from afar. It's not too late, never too late, to make our new fate*.
Always, we are one.
Sentimentality and symbolism are tied up in this precious piece of jewelry. Scenes of how we went where eagles dared replay in the fibrous striations formed by minute air bubbles within the glass. You ain't no goddamn son-of-a-bitch but now we test my threshold of pain, see how long I last. That hatpin in my retina unbosoms all my past*. It all brings me back to when I was a weaker, callous knave of a little girl.
My purity ring can fit on my middle finger now, but I continue to wear it on my ring finger. It's a promise I've kept, keep, am keeping. And the symbolism of it being on my ring finger keeps me from wanting to move it until another ring can replace it...
You can see the bangle, the bracelet, and my ring all in this shot (and also my Conan pick) ♥ but you can see how light colored it is here
There's part of that Sagittarian stubbornness there, too. =\
And because I refuse to sing along to Dondante now that, and because it no longer fits/applies completely, I have a new song, a new anthem, that I cherish because it gives me a hope I've been told not to have by some, and have been told to cling to by others.
Remnants of the empire
Artifacts of love
Will I meet the designer?
What will he dream up?
Remnants of the empire
Gravity awake...
What's held down to the ground
Next round goes into space.
Raising up the empire
Innocence and faith
What will hold you up and
What will stand in your way?
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
All souls, all faiths,
Always, we were one.
Raise a bayonet in the dark
For all the human race.
Watch out watch out watch out watch out
You could go the same way.
Taking out the empire
Watching from afar
It's not too late, never too late,
We could make a new fate.
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
All souls, all faiths
Always, we are one.
*hide-and-seek lyric references. Gotta catch 'em all!
And when I noticed the joint where it was fused upon creation split at the beginning of church the other day, I was relieved that crobat_lover would be leaving the choir soon enough to sit by me and silently console me.
I bought some windshield repair stuff, had it on the counter to repair it when I got up the guts. Then Cricket was knocking something around. I go over. It was the bangle. In twain. Two large pieces, but a few splinters of turqoise beauty were in the floor with it, too. My heart hitched then plummeted into arrhythmia like a struggling hummingbird.
...It must be fixed I will kill Cricket why must this happen to one of the most beautiful gifts I've ever recieved I still love but I can't wear it to work anymore I have to put it on my wall so it is safe and still together but how can I still make my position my feelings my stance on this known does it still need to be known or is it best private and unsaid like secrets...
Then... Symbolism attacked, like the double-edged sword it is.
It is the bayonet I raise in the dark for all the human race*. For all emotions, returned and neglected, all Romeos and Juliets and fatal attractions, all hearts that shouldn't love each other that become close in a town much like a prison cell*.
What if the love behind that bangle has finally been broken? The motive behind it gone? The unspoken promises that made it gleam all the more vibrantly extinguished? Not on my end, but... On the other? I can't bear to think that is possible, that is true, but that the broken love lies with the "rightful" owner of the bangle. What broke (or has broken) there?
If I become unloved--unlovable--Destined to revert back into 片想いmode, which is full of self-hate and obesity and poverty and sickness and death*, what then? Sagittarians are wrapped up in sentimentality, are so loyal and sincere it can kill them oh hello there, trufax, nice to see you again, and are passionate. The symbolism interconnects with how much value Sagittarians put on relationships and tending to the most vital ones.
But, on the other hand, it was repaired. Put back together. Imperfectly, yes, as to be expected when something broken is mended, but never the same. Had those feelings been cracked, broken, and mended again?
It can still be worn, but with excessive care. And especially not at work. The bangle, the love, is still there, it still exists, it still forms the circular shape which the creator intended. And because its fragility is known, it shouldn't be worn. Yes, I still love it and want to wear it, but now I know its limits. Now I know I can't without dire risk of utterly destroying it, so I must take care.
I can still hold on to this artifact of love. Taking out the empire, watching from afar. It's not too late, never too late, to make our new fate*.
Always, we are one.
Sentimentality and symbolism are tied up in this precious piece of jewelry. Scenes of how we went where eagles dared replay in the fibrous striations formed by minute air bubbles within the glass. You ain't no goddamn son-of-a-bitch but now we test my threshold of pain, see how long I last. That hatpin in my retina unbosoms all my past*. It all brings me back to when I was a weaker, callous knave of a little girl.
My purity ring can fit on my middle finger now, but I continue to wear it on my ring finger. It's a promise I've kept, keep, am keeping. And the symbolism of it being on my ring finger keeps me from wanting to move it until another ring can replace it...
You can see the bangle, the bracelet, and my ring all in this shot (and also my Conan pick) ♥ but you can see how light colored it is here
There's part of that Sagittarian stubbornness there, too. =\
And because I refuse to sing along to Dondante now that, and because it no longer fits/applies completely, I have a new song, a new anthem, that I cherish because it gives me a hope I've been told not to have by some, and have been told to cling to by others.
Remnants of the empire
Artifacts of love
Will I meet the designer?
What will he dream up?
Remnants of the empire
Gravity awake...
What's held down to the ground
Next round goes into space.
Raising up the empire
Innocence and faith
What will hold you up and
What will stand in your way?
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
All souls, all faiths,
Always, we were one.
Raise a bayonet in the dark
For all the human race.
Watch out watch out watch out watch out
You could go the same way.
Taking out the empire
Watching from afar
It's not too late, never too late,
We could make a new fate.
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
Then I saw a new "Heaven"
Formed in the bleeding light of dusk
All souls, all faiths
Always, we are one.
*hide-and-seek lyric references. Gotta catch 'em all!