BY THE SAME TOKEN + u crossed a different bridge, headed across the hatchie and the loos, two rivers youll likely never step in again. And you took your lugage with you, and i took mine. And when u left me there well on the other side and sped off with my stuff, i kicked the dirt. You can have it babe. Champion some other cause and sing about it on my guitar. Sleep with my dog in another mans bed. Yer still beginning again is all. And if youd have turned back around I would have been gone. Im still gone. Gone from the soft kiss we made into a bed, the chance we gave the grass to grow. Gone from the smack of another man's reflection in the mirror. Id give you my self, chopped up on a platter in hot sauce, alone. Its no good to me anymore. I have chewed on it long enough. But u took it with the rest of my baggage when u left. Now its just me n God out in the ether, soakin up the sun. Dont bother sending me anymore peices of your burden, wrapped up priority. Save your money next time. I have no forward address.
your commentary would be sensible 'cept for Burdens do not follow normal mathematical laws. I cant take nothin from u. you try and let some baggage go and end up with three times more, and it works both ways. True there was a part of myself that really was, at that moment in time when my foot first touched yours underneath the duvet, adventurous, strong, carefree, laughingly amused by your melancholy persona, but it was a fragile front. You knew. In reality I came with a Burden I was too tired to carry, which drew me to yours in thinly disguised weary desperation. you were the Knight of Cups and offered me the Four of Swords, a stupid gamble, but how could i resist? not to mention the empathetic familiarity, the projective unconditional lust for a fellow beast. We played house, just like growing up ("you can be the dog!"). immediately you thrust your Burden upon me, weighted me down with it, tried to scare me away. Boo! but needing to prove my mettle, I bore it with patience and grace and, eventually less and less gracefulness, until it became apparent the ship was sinking, underwater even when I boarded, (how could I have overlooked that?! ah, the hopeful, naive delusions of even the most cynical Lovers) and I had to save myself. Give up? Hardly. In fact I should have jumped long ago, rather than fall victim to my own stubborn benevolent megalomania. Back to Burdens, I left with mine (original) like a burlap bundle twined on my back, doubled in size through yer abuse and negligence, hurtful and wearing against my skin soft and delicate as a negligee. and yours (tortured now by the memories, the PTSD of the lovelorn, just as you were when I moved in, "a wanting love...smash my heart against yours...even now with a new love in my bed, much more nurturing... " you wrote in your letter in your briefcase), and you ended up with yours (the Original) and yours (my absence, Rejection) and yours again (Inadequacy, the undeniable responsibility for said absence).
ReplyDeleteI can't see you, I haven't asked after you, I have no clue, but it must be true, if I am to be portrayed as Sabetouer (Now who would that be? Seven of Swords?). I can't take nothin from you. Exactly. Because nothingness IS your cross to bear in this instance, hardly very different from your Original condition. Yet your assessment is not without its champions, the dissociative mirror allusion, your portrayal of yourself now as "gone", alone with God. Its reminiscent of what Billy Corgan , wrote in the 1996 hit "Zero" (which incidentally, unlike Burdens, does follow the formua of a standard mathematical proof): My reflection, dirty mirror. There's no connection to myself. I'm your lover, I'm your zero. I'm the face in your dreams of glass. So save your prayers. For when we're really gonna need'em. Throw out your cares and fly. Wanna go for a ride? She's the one for me. She's all I really need. Cause she's the one for me . Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness. And cleanliness is godliness, and god is empty just like me. Intoxicated with the madness, I'm in love with my sadness...
You know, Corgan used to hang out in these parts with a friend on mine...they had the same LSD dealer...tripping in a mobile home in the countryside. One day they said, "dude you're Billy Corgan, why do drive all the way out here and hang out with us in this trailer?" Apparently he just liked the atmosphere, perhaps it fit his Zero frame of mind... "out here in the ether, soaking up the sun"...He's been more outspoken about spiritual matters lately, been making some big splashes in the Christian world. Naturally, these lyrics are brought into question. Claims what he meant was, not that God didn't exist but that he imagined God felt lonely sometimes, just like him.
Since when does she talk about music/ians? Look, it might be the half shot of whiskey that I took an hour and a half ago talking, some things (alcohol tolerance) haven't changed, and I might have nearly fainted in the shower this morning out of a sudden burst of rage (no windows to throw stones through), but for this split second (don't think to hard now, self) I forgive you, and for what its worth I'm sorry for whatever pain I caused you by the temporary meddling of our souls.
ReplyDeletePsalm 34:18 The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.
If enough time has passed that this doesn't apply to you anymore, it still applies to me. Beginning again is all, Im not. I'm beginning again bruised and battered, another day late and another dollar short. At least I have Mercy on my side. And I saved my money this time.