Words- A Lipton Side Dish for More Lyrics, and Excerpts, this week's main course
I know, I know, how long can I expect to maintain a live journal presence merely through posting mysterious lyrics? Not much longer, clearly.
I am loving lots of people, hard. I am trying to not grieve to much. I am trying to see the good in people. It matters.
I am trying to remember some things without it giving me hysterical blindness. (excerpt from case studies with Dr Peck
"Case Studies: Hysterical Blindness:
I began to suspect that Mr. B.W. is really not blind, but may be struggling with a very rare psychological disorder known as "hysterical blindness." In this instance, somehow the emotional turmoil within him has created such an impact that he actually blocks off visual impulses going between areas of the brain to the point that he cannot see.
He describes a background where he was very much controlled by an autocratic and violent father. He indeed stated that at times he was quite upset and angry, but always wanted to control that anger. It is my feeling that this was accomplished through his pursuit of martial arts and boxing. This gave him a sense of power and control.
He could teach the troubled youth but was always in control. When this one troubled boy kept punching him, he lost that control, let loose on his rage, and indeed hurt the boy. The thought that this rage could come to the surface overwhelmed him, but it continues with his struggling with the city and its various agencies.
Although he comes across as very sad, frustrated, and pathetic, there is an extreme anger underneath. I feel that this anger has always been there, but he is not consciously in touch with it. The closest he got to expressing that anger was the day that he punched that student and then proceeded to go blind.
--- http://www.drpeck.com/blind.html
Ok, back to lyrics for now.
Tributing Christopher:
"On a warm summers evening,
on a train bound for nowhere
I met up with a gambler,
we were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns at staring
out the window at the darkness
The boredom overtook us and he began to speak
He said, son I've made a life out of reading people's faces
And knowing what the cards were,
by the way they held their eyes
So if you don't mind my sayin',
I can see you're out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey,
I'll give you some advice
So I handed him my bottle,
and he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
and asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet,
and his face lost all expression
Said, if you're gonna play the game, boy,
you gotta learn to play it right
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
Every gambler knows that the secret to survive is
Knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep
'Cos every hand's a winner and every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for is that I end asleep
And when he finished speakin',
he turned back for the window
Crushed out the cigarette,
faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness,
the gambler he broke even
But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
I am loving lots of people, hard. I am trying to not grieve to much. I am trying to see the good in people. It matters.
I am trying to remember some things without it giving me hysterical blindness. (excerpt from case studies with Dr Peck
"Case Studies: Hysterical Blindness:
I began to suspect that Mr. B.W. is really not blind, but may be struggling with a very rare psychological disorder known as "hysterical blindness." In this instance, somehow the emotional turmoil within him has created such an impact that he actually blocks off visual impulses going between areas of the brain to the point that he cannot see.
He describes a background where he was very much controlled by an autocratic and violent father. He indeed stated that at times he was quite upset and angry, but always wanted to control that anger. It is my feeling that this was accomplished through his pursuit of martial arts and boxing. This gave him a sense of power and control.
He could teach the troubled youth but was always in control. When this one troubled boy kept punching him, he lost that control, let loose on his rage, and indeed hurt the boy. The thought that this rage could come to the surface overwhelmed him, but it continues with his struggling with the city and its various agencies.
Although he comes across as very sad, frustrated, and pathetic, there is an extreme anger underneath. I feel that this anger has always been there, but he is not consciously in touch with it. The closest he got to expressing that anger was the day that he punched that student and then proceeded to go blind.
--- http://www.drpeck.com/blind.html
Ok, back to lyrics for now.
Tributing Christopher:
"On a warm summers evening,
on a train bound for nowhere
I met up with a gambler,
we were both too tired to sleep
So we took turns at staring
out the window at the darkness
The boredom overtook us and he began to speak
He said, son I've made a life out of reading people's faces
And knowing what the cards were,
by the way they held their eyes
So if you don't mind my sayin',
I can see you're out of aces
For a taste of your whiskey,
I'll give you some advice
So I handed him my bottle,
and he drank down my last swallow
Then he bummed a cigarette
and asked me for a light
And the night got deathly quiet,
and his face lost all expression
Said, if you're gonna play the game, boy,
you gotta learn to play it right
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
Every gambler knows that the secret to survive is
Knowing what to throw away and knowing what to keep
'Cos every hand's a winner and every hand's a loser
And the best that you can hope for is that I end asleep
And when he finished speakin',
he turned back for the window
Crushed out the cigarette,
faded off to sleep
And somewhere in the darkness,
the gambler he broke even
But in his final words I found an ace that I could keep
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done
You got to know when to hold 'em,
know when to fold 'em
Know when to walk away and know when to run
You never count your money,
when you're sittin' at the table
There'll be time enough for countin',
when the dealin's done