I want to hold you high.
And so it goes.
Backwards, forwards, it doesn't really matter, does it? I've said before that we're beings in time, but then, which time? I find myself breaking the silence after months and months of wishing it were broken. Broken is the subject that finally jarred me out. The idea of spirits, wills, ideas, plans, lives, and hopes breaking -- the people that used to be my life. Where the hell did everyone go?
I suppose it's no surprise that these thoughts find me as I contemplate a solo trip back to the homeland (read: Mesquite, TX). Back where my adult life started, high school -- that "break in rough draft test-run of being a real person" -- and all my friends who stayed there afterward. This has been a subject I have found myself writing about probably more than any other. I think it's because I learn so much, have so much to contemplate on when it comes to that bunch and their stories. I suppose it's the only measuring stick I have to compare myself with. What are the difference between those lives and mine? We had as similar backgrounds as you can get in some cases, with radically differing results. What roads took me where?
What finally sparked this expression was eyes. As I looked back at recent pictures of people I reconnected with, I was struck by how much some of them had grown up, and in what ways. There is one person, not representative of the majority but not singular in this regard -- but this persons eyes struck me the most. That's where the idea of broken hit me. I saw this person's picture and was wrenched back to an earlier time, 7 years ago, when this person was standing before me for one of the last times I saw her. Those eyes were so different. Her posture, her demeanor, and no doubt, her laugh. Cocky. Energetic. Vibrant. She was ready to take on the world. She had everything before her. To see this recent picture, was to feel like she had failed.
She hadn't, really. But in that sense when you see someone, see that their plans were broken, their hopes and maybe their hearts as well. See that they were lost in a different way than the lost I'm feeling tonight. Lost to something that was unknown, dark and dangerous. What? What is it? How could that brash youth fall to anything?
She's not alone. I think the best way I can describe it is to say, these people didn't turn out the way they thought they would. Maybe that's what really defeated them.
I don't know what else to say. I feel like I can't really convey things tonight. Like I'm grasping and slipping. I suppose that's to be expected. I've got to be rusty as hell at this, but damn, I miss it. I have missed late nights with music that moves me, with words pouring and drenching my thoughts clean. Going to bed drunk on life. This is something I will get back. However I lost it, it's only me I've lost, and at least I don't have to look too far to find it again.
A sunrise and a sunset.
You are lying while you confess, keep trying to explain...
The sunrise and the sun sets -- you realize and then you forget
What you've been trying to retain.
But everybody knows it's all about the things that get stuck inside of your head...
Like the songs your roommate sings
Or a vision of her body as she stretches out on your bed --
She raised her hands in the air and asked you,
"When was the last time you looked in the mirror?
Because you have changed."
Yeah, you've changed...
Backwards, forwards, it doesn't really matter, does it? I've said before that we're beings in time, but then, which time? I find myself breaking the silence after months and months of wishing it were broken. Broken is the subject that finally jarred me out. The idea of spirits, wills, ideas, plans, lives, and hopes breaking -- the people that used to be my life. Where the hell did everyone go?
I suppose it's no surprise that these thoughts find me as I contemplate a solo trip back to the homeland (read: Mesquite, TX). Back where my adult life started, high school -- that "break in rough draft test-run of being a real person" -- and all my friends who stayed there afterward. This has been a subject I have found myself writing about probably more than any other. I think it's because I learn so much, have so much to contemplate on when it comes to that bunch and their stories. I suppose it's the only measuring stick I have to compare myself with. What are the difference between those lives and mine? We had as similar backgrounds as you can get in some cases, with radically differing results. What roads took me where?
What finally sparked this expression was eyes. As I looked back at recent pictures of people I reconnected with, I was struck by how much some of them had grown up, and in what ways. There is one person, not representative of the majority but not singular in this regard -- but this persons eyes struck me the most. That's where the idea of broken hit me. I saw this person's picture and was wrenched back to an earlier time, 7 years ago, when this person was standing before me for one of the last times I saw her. Those eyes were so different. Her posture, her demeanor, and no doubt, her laugh. Cocky. Energetic. Vibrant. She was ready to take on the world. She had everything before her. To see this recent picture, was to feel like she had failed.
She hadn't, really. But in that sense when you see someone, see that their plans were broken, their hopes and maybe their hearts as well. See that they were lost in a different way than the lost I'm feeling tonight. Lost to something that was unknown, dark and dangerous. What? What is it? How could that brash youth fall to anything?
She's not alone. I think the best way I can describe it is to say, these people didn't turn out the way they thought they would. Maybe that's what really defeated them.
I don't know what else to say. I feel like I can't really convey things tonight. Like I'm grasping and slipping. I suppose that's to be expected. I've got to be rusty as hell at this, but damn, I miss it. I have missed late nights with music that moves me, with words pouring and drenching my thoughts clean. Going to bed drunk on life. This is something I will get back. However I lost it, it's only me I've lost, and at least I don't have to look too far to find it again.
A sunrise and a sunset.
You are lying while you confess, keep trying to explain...
The sunrise and the sun sets -- you realize and then you forget
What you've been trying to retain.
But everybody knows it's all about the things that get stuck inside of your head...
Like the songs your roommate sings
Or a vision of her body as she stretches out on your bed --
She raised her hands in the air and asked you,
"When was the last time you looked in the mirror?
Because you have changed."
Yeah, you've changed...