I know, you're all sick of hearing about Live.
Their single, "The River," the one getting radio play right now?
I hadn't actually heard it before the concert,
and I liked it so I downloaded it and have been listening today.
See, me and music, we need to become intimately acquainted before I generally feel anything more than "yeah. cool." or "eh. not so much."
See my title.
I've been listening to it on repeat all day.
EVERY time I hear the opening lines my arms go all goose bumpy and the hair stands up on the back of my neck...
And it really feels like a river is ripping through my insides.
Or strong fingers, grabbing at the wispiest parts of me...
draw ragged breaths, and I want to cry.
and my life flashes before me
I doubt everything.
Am I really meant to live the american dream-life?
the one with so much goodness and comfort and perfection that I forget how to dream, how to experience feelings so hard that I can't tell if it's pain or pleasure?
Does there have to be a choice?
I guess not.
Can anyone really live a whole life with raw nerve endings exposed constantly?
Could I survive a life like that?
No...I don't think so.
but I also don't think I will be whole without allowing myself those peaks and valleys.
A plateau still gets monotonous, even if it's a very, very high one.
I'm not even one speck less happy than I have been, I just...
The way that song affected me reminded me, rather sharply, that I haven't FELT a song so thoroughly for a long time.
Or maybe it just seems that way.
Sometimes I have a shitty memory... (insert sheepish and slightly sexy smile here...)
Of course, the other reason I keep skipping back to this track is that the following track is called, "Home".
And it is striking a particularly tender chord with me this week.
Why did I have to hear this song for the first time this week?
I can't listen to it without crying 3 kinds of tears.
and that's a little inconvenient at the gym.
It's a song about the war, and I know, I know--
every band has done one of those by now, but.
But then if I skip that one, it goes to "Beauty of Grey", and that's just...
My tongue lies dormant as I wander, lost, in the maze of my half-thunk-thought cluttered head today.
It's like a hedge maze...
only instead of leaves there are clusters of words, out of sequence.
Instead of fluttering in the breeze they are scrambling to evade my grasp...
I want to sit silently and let my thoughts all relax back into their natural order,
which was tenuous at best--
held gently together by a frayed thread, but it worked...
I guess I had some...
stuff on my mind, eh?
That was cathartic.
Or possibly something less dramatic. heh.
I don't usually get quite so personal on here...sorry for the outburst.
I do prefer to keep it vague--
partly to keep from being unjustly judged, and partly to keep from feeling
I guess that's a bit of a problem.
Now, to delete or not to delete?
I am SUCH a writer.
Like, an egotistical one.
Can't stand the thought of deleting MY words, I mean MY GOD, they're FUCKING BRILLIANT!!!
Ok, me and my big pink eraser are going to crawl through this post and delete that chunk in the middle.
Let's just say I stumbled upon something that's been bothering me and I shall deal with it appropriately.
Or, more likely, I'll just snuggle into my husband's side tonight when he gets home
and let it all melt away
and let his love fill me
and take deep breaths
and let it be enough.
Stop needing so much...
Yeah...that makes me smile.