25 October 2010

Prelude 12/21

This week's is brought to you by my growing frustration. I've chosen Prelude 12/21 by AFI because it really does express some of my feelings recently. Especially the last verse, but that's a matter for my journal, not my blog. ;)

Besides being expressive of my current mood, Prelude 12/21 also has some pretty iconic melody lines. Every once in a while, there's a song that just captures something in the melody, and it seems as if you've heard the song before. That's how it is with this song.

Prelude 12/21, by AFI

This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise to depart, just promise one thing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise you my heart just promise to sing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

This is what I thought, I thought you’d need me.
This is what I thought, so think me naive
I'd promised you a heart, you'd promise to keep.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

`Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.`

24 October 2010

In Denial

I was talking with a friend the other day about another friend. You could call it gossip, but I wouldn't for two simple reasons. First, we were talking about how my friend interacts with her friend, and second, it wasn't in any way negative about the friend's friend.

If you understand that, good for you. I'm not sure if I do myself.

Anyways, we were talking, and the subject of denial was brought up. Maybe it's because I've been in denial myself recently, or maybe because we were talking about it so recently, but I've been thinking about denial a lot.

This is how I figure it. Denial is not acknowledging that a problem exists, but in order for someone to be in denial, there needs to be a problem. It can be one you've observed for yourself, or it could be brought to your attention by someone else. But it has to exist, and the issue has to have been raised for denial to occur. Otherwise, it's just oblivion.

Did that make sense? I'll try it again.

Say someone has the problem of being an obsessive, compulsive neat freak, to the point of alienating others. Oblivion is when this OCD person doesn't realize that the neat freakiness of his or her personality is driving others away. Denial is when the person has realized for themselves or had it presented to them as the reason they have no friends. Capische?

Denial doesn't say "there is no problem." Denial says "this may be a problem, but I really don't want it to be." It's cowardly, in a way. Rather than confronting issues and challenges head-on, a person in denial subscribes to the ostriches' philosophy: If I don't see it, it doesn't exist. Denial is complacency, comfortableness with the status quo.

Well, sticking your head in the ground doesn't solve anything. And to be quite frank, the world is changing every second. The Future is being converted into the Past as the present rips away Now before we know it. Peter Pan is the hero most to be pitied, for he can never change who he is. And denying that a problem exist denies changes which are omnipresent.

Denial isn't oblivion. It's a choice; a conscious, active choice to ignore the state of the world around you. And if I indulge that decision, I'm no better than a traitor to reality.

B

20 October 2010

Dreams, by EA Poe

Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?
'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.

I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.

18 October 2010

I can assure this was going to be a scintillating look into my psyche. But it won't come out. I've run out of words to describe things now. So you'll have to bear with me as I bang on this keyboard, trying to make sense of it all.

First of, I should apologize to you, my reader, for turning this blog into little more than a vaguely worded personal journal. That was not my intent. When you have something you want to tell someone but cannot tell anyone, everyone is forced to deal with it. You've been subjected to far more navel-gazing than ever permissible. And if you've stuck through it, I am both humbled and penitent.

As for the reasons behind all this frustration and angst, I can't go into that. You're probably thinking something about the state of my sanity, and whatever it is, I'd probably agree.

Gah. I don't know.

I just don't have the words. They've gone. Shriveled. Disappeared. And with it, any hope of mine to explain to anyone anything that's going on with me. There's so much I could say, but won't. And that leaves very little of anything else.

Worse still, I owe it to a few people to tell them something inexpressible. What do I do? Walk up and drown these acquaintances with a torrent of words, emotions and problems they could care less about? That's not going to happen. Even if I were a thousand times worse, I wouldn't forget that other people exist and have their own problems.

The question still remains. What can I do about it? Nothing. All I can do is hope to weather this, that this too shall pass, and that I'll last longer than the ones I need to be strong for.

And if this post lasts past tomorrow, I shall be most surprised.
B, wordless

Winterborn

 After much rumination, the song I've chosen today is Winterborn, by the Cruxshadows. I've been reading Beowulf
recently, and this song reminds me a whole lot of Beowulf's final battle. A dragon starts ravaging 
Beowulf's land, so he and his soldiers go to stop it. Beowulf is fatally injured, his soldiers run away, and 
finally there is one young man left to help him slay the dragon. After the dragon dies, so does Beowulf. 
Don't ask me how that applies to this song. But it makes sense to me. Actually, wait. I think I know the 
connection now. It's because both Beowulf's death and this song outline classic ideals of heroism. 
 
But without further ado,
Winterborn, by the Cruxshadows
 
Dry your eyes and quietly bear this pain with pride
For heaven shall remember the silent and the brave
And promise me they will never see, the fear within our eyes
(my eyes are closed)
We will give strength to those who still remain

So bury fear, for fate draws near
And hide the signs of pain
With noble acts, the bravest souls
Endure the heart's remains
Discard regret, that in this debt
A better world is made
That children of a newer day might remember
And avoid our fate

(I've waited all day in the pouring rain, but nobody came, no, nobody came)

And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be your light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winter born
Without denying, a faith is come
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winter born

Hold your head up high-for there is no greater love
Think of the faces of the people you defend
(you defend)
And promise me, they will never see the tears within our eyes
(my eyes are closed)
Although we are men, with mortal sins, angels never cry

So bury fear, for fate draws near
And hide the signs of pain
With noble acts, the bravest souls
Endure the heart's remains
Discard regret, that in this debt
A better world is made
That children of a newer day might remember
And avoid our fate

And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be your light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winter born
Without denying, a faith in God
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winter born

And in the fury of this darkest hour
I will be your light
A lifetime for this destiny
For I am Winter born
And in this moment..I will not run
It is my place to stand
We few shall carry hope
Within our bloodied hands
(bloodied hands)
And in our Dying, we're more alive-than we have ever been
I've lived for these few seconds
For I am Winter born

And in the fury of this darkest hour
We will be the light
You've asked me for my sacrifice
And I am Winter born
Without denying, a faith in man
That I have never known
I hear the angels call my name
And I am Winter born

Within this moment now
I am for you, though better men have failed
I will give my life for love
For I am Winter born
And in my dying
I'm more alive, than I have ever been
I will make this sacrifice
For I am Winter born
 
B, who apologizes for the wonky formatting 

13 October 2010

Snippet

I like it when a lot of my friends are green on gmail chat, not because I can talk to them, but because the green light reminds me that they exist.

11 October 2010

If I Ever Leave This World Alive

Well, I was looking through my archives of Music Mondays, and realized I hadn't introduced Flogging Molly, one of my favorite bands of all time. The only way to describe Flogging Molly is as an Irish-American Celtic punk band. They're brilliant.

So today, let me tell you about If I Ever Leave This World Alive, by Flogging Molly. Yes, the video is a Dr. Who fan vid. Deal with it.

*ahem* Well, If I Ever Leave This World Alive follows in the vein of a previous song, I Am Stretched On Your Grave. It's sweet, slightly morbid, and definitely something I want played at my funeral. It's also upbeat, pretty hopeful, and has a delicious little non-sequitur involved.

So without further ado,
If I Ever Leave This World Alive

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll thank for all the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive
I'll come back down and sit beside your
feet tonight
Wherever I am you'll always be
More than just a memory
If I ever leave this world alive

If I ever leave this world alive
I'll take on all the sadness
That I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word don't shed a tear
I'll be here when it all gets weird
If I ever leave this world alive

So when in doubt just call my name
Just before you go insane
If I ever leave this world
Hey I may never leave this world
But if I ever leave this world alive

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right

She says I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life
You said that it would,
Now everything should be all right
Yeah should be alright

09 October 2010

painted ship upon a painted ocean

I feel like the Ancient Mariner. I'm on a ship, drifting in the doldrums with no crew but the dead bodies of my compatriots, no water, no food, and no hope of salvation in sight. Water like witch's oil, slimy creatures crawling with slimy legs upon the slimy sea, and no other souls in the area. Just me and God.

When I was little, my favorite book began: "I see the moon, and the moon sees me. Does anyone know I'm alone here at sea?" The clues are all there, if one cared to look. But no one has, and I don't blame them. It's easier to mind your own business than to be caught up in what is not your concern. Everyone has a clue, but no one has cared to put them together.

Tomorrow, my friend Toothpick is getting married. A lot of her bridesmaids are my good friends, back from college, and naively, I thought things would be the same. Wrong. They've moved on to quarters and classes and roommates and floor parties and crazy professors, and I've been left behind. Granted, I did see this coming, but "I told you so" never solved anything. The same feeling of shyness and aloneness has invaded the relationships I have with the few people I trust. No, I'd never bring up confidences in the middle of Toothpick's bachelorette party, but I had hoped that I'd see something, anything, that would show that the friendship is not just withering. Wrong again.

The same feeling of aloneness, shyness, quiet resignation from my stranger-friends is also found around the people I'd previously called mates. Now I'm just confused, and I don't know exactly what to do. I've told these friends things I wouldn't have had I known they'd moved on this much. My fault, not theirs. I don't blame them. I guess the only thing to do is not trust them with more confidences. I don't know. 


"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

The many men, so beautiful!
And they all dead did lie;
And a thousand thousand slimy things
Lived on; and so did I."

B

07 October 2010

Paranoia

For a couple weeks, I've been a little concerned about friendships. More specificially, how I feel around my friends.

I'm the type of person who questions everything - and I mean everything - before doing anything. Before saying anything. I examine my motives, my opinions, my hopes, anything that could affect my decision very closely before taking action.

Imagine my surprise and discomfort, then, when I discovered the following fact: I was feeling oddly around my guy-friends, and whatever this unidentified feeling was, it was strongly influencing my actions. Now that's an embarrassing realization.

Let me explain why: I don't take actions without knowing why I'm doing them. Now, I've got an emotional memory going back to 2005, when I was 12. By emotional memory, I mean, I can recognize emotions I've had since that time.

I haven't felt whatever it is I'm feeling for as long as I can remember.  For a while, my working theory was that it was what people commonly call "a crush." Problem being, I haven't had a crush since my *ahem* boy-crazy days (circa 2003-2004), so I wouldn't know one if it introduced itself with a handshake. I hoped it wasn't, but I couldn't know.  "Crush" seemed the only option.

That is, until I realized that I felt the same way around pretty much all my friends left here in Washington. Including the gal-friends. If the feeling is a "crush," I really don't like the implication.

So it can't be a crush. I won't allow it. Then I got to thinking. This feeling is remarkably similar to my first day of co-op, my first day of choir, my first day of speech club. In other words, the closest match I have is shyness.

This new implication, while still upsetting, is nonetheless less disturbing  than being attracted to all my friends.

...

But still. Shyness? really? I'm shy around the only people I can call friends who I still physically interact with every week? I'm shy around the two guys I spent over 70 hours with this summer? I'm shy around my duo-partner, Calvin? Around girls I paged with? Around people I call my friends?

And yet, I still treat them as strangers. Are they friends of necessity?

How can I call people my friends if they don't know me, and I don't know them?

I don't know. I just really, don't know.

B