Morrison, Me, what could be......but wont.
So I am currently reading Jim Morrison's life story, "Nobody Here Gets Out Alive" for the third time. One of the best rock bio's I have ever read. Now I am a pretty big fan of the Doors and have always liked them but I am not one of these people who think Morrison is a god or is in anyway related to deity. But what I do think is that he was a pretty interesting person that lived an amazing life. He was one of those individuals that constantly pushed through the boundaries of everyday reality and never second guessed his impulses or desires. He lived hard. Did hard drugs, drank hard liquor and never seemed to regret the decisions he made. I am not saying one must do these things to truly experience life at its fullest. But in most cases these activities seem to play a role in most of these type of people's lives. And by saying "these type of people" I mean the brilliant, beautiful, bright artist's that have been touched by sorrow and whose essence captures all of humanity in its most raw and purest forms. They lived lives that were clearly marked as “tragic”. I like to think of tragedy as not events in one's life that were works of fate, but as results that came to be because of one's own choices. To me that is the tragedy. Jim Morrison indeed made some tragic decisions that ultimately led to his death. But these decisions are what made him who he was, what inspired him, and in the end left such a heavy influence on
those around him as well as our culture.
After reading a few chapters of this book tonight I began to think about the kind of person Morrison was, how that I have had a few people in my life that have a lot of the same personality traits as he did, and why I am so attracted and intrigued with them. I came to the possible conclusion that its probably because I know that I could NEVER be like them. I can have similar thoughts as them, adhere to the same philosophy, read the same books, try the same drugs, and even say the same prayers, but what separates me from them is that I am afraid to give in and let myself experience what can only be experienced by allowing all preconceived thought, faith and notions go. And the reason I cant seem to do this is all wrapped up in my fear. I am a coward. I dance around the idea of letting go, but never quite follow through. I'll stick my feet in, wade around a bit, but something keeps me from making that dive all the way under. Sure, I will sleep in the dark, as long as I can have a night light. In the past I have surrounded myself several times by those who were not afraid. They pushed the envelope, tested their luck and never did things halfway. Sometimes they did things that could only be described as “stupid” or “reckless” or “irrational”, things I would never really do myself. But you better believe I was there to witness it first hand and deep down envied them for going through with it. In a way it was a thrill to be so close to madness, to danger, to such blatant disregard...so close I could touch it. Several times even tasting and trying but in the end always bailing out before it was too late, because I was scared.
So....I became the passive participant, the one in the front seat of the audience. Sometimes clapping and cheering, other times covering my eyes, a spectator of an absolutely amazing show, but too afraid to actually step up and accept a role. Stuck in a place that can only be called “in-between”. And man...how frustrating that can be, because I know I have the potential to go so far, in so many different, extreme directions. I could be a drugged-out poet or a dedicated housewife. I could be a crazed bag-lady on the corner or a corporate executive. I have the potential to be a murderer, a missionary, an addict, a mental patient, a professor, a criminal, an activist or an evangelist. But the reality is that I will never be any of these people. Because in order to do so I would have to abandon all my fears and give into the unseen force that drives folk's in all these different, extreme directions. Call that force God, call it fate, call it whatever you want to. But I will most likely never give in. I am a coward.......and in some ironic way I guess that makes my life tragic. Like i said earlier not because I am a victim of some type of disaster or injustice but because I made the decision NOT to make any decisions. Not to run full force with all I have in one particular direction. To be content and comfortable “dancing around” ideas. Satisfied with just reading my books and watching other's break through to new levels and pushing themselves beyond their comprehension. That is what is called in Greek Literature my “tragic flaw”. I am afraid to take action, I am spiritless. I am a coward.
those around him as well as our culture.
After reading a few chapters of this book tonight I began to think about the kind of person Morrison was, how that I have had a few people in my life that have a lot of the same personality traits as he did, and why I am so attracted and intrigued with them. I came to the possible conclusion that its probably because I know that I could NEVER be like them. I can have similar thoughts as them, adhere to the same philosophy, read the same books, try the same drugs, and even say the same prayers, but what separates me from them is that I am afraid to give in and let myself experience what can only be experienced by allowing all preconceived thought, faith and notions go. And the reason I cant seem to do this is all wrapped up in my fear. I am a coward. I dance around the idea of letting go, but never quite follow through. I'll stick my feet in, wade around a bit, but something keeps me from making that dive all the way under. Sure, I will sleep in the dark, as long as I can have a night light. In the past I have surrounded myself several times by those who were not afraid. They pushed the envelope, tested their luck and never did things halfway. Sometimes they did things that could only be described as “stupid” or “reckless” or “irrational”, things I would never really do myself. But you better believe I was there to witness it first hand and deep down envied them for going through with it. In a way it was a thrill to be so close to madness, to danger, to such blatant disregard...so close I could touch it. Several times even tasting and trying but in the end always bailing out before it was too late, because I was scared.
So....I became the passive participant, the one in the front seat of the audience. Sometimes clapping and cheering, other times covering my eyes, a spectator of an absolutely amazing show, but too afraid to actually step up and accept a role. Stuck in a place that can only be called “in-between”. And man...how frustrating that can be, because I know I have the potential to go so far, in so many different, extreme directions. I could be a drugged-out poet or a dedicated housewife. I could be a crazed bag-lady on the corner or a corporate executive. I have the potential to be a murderer, a missionary, an addict, a mental patient, a professor, a criminal, an activist or an evangelist. But the reality is that I will never be any of these people. Because in order to do so I would have to abandon all my fears and give into the unseen force that drives folk's in all these different, extreme directions. Call that force God, call it fate, call it whatever you want to. But I will most likely never give in. I am a coward.......and in some ironic way I guess that makes my life tragic. Like i said earlier not because I am a victim of some type of disaster or injustice but because I made the decision NOT to make any decisions. Not to run full force with all I have in one particular direction. To be content and comfortable “dancing around” ideas. Satisfied with just reading my books and watching other's break through to new levels and pushing themselves beyond their comprehension. That is what is called in Greek Literature my “tragic flaw”. I am afraid to take action, I am spiritless. I am a coward.