Monday, August 2, 2010

...and so I packed up and went home.

Actually, I just went to the closest thing to home that I could find. But I never really found home even though I searched long and hard for it. There were times and places that were familiar and comfortable. At the same time those places were unfamiliar and uncomfortable. There was never any place that ever felt like I really truly belonged. I always molded myself into where I found myself. But like Neo and the matrix it felt just a little off kilter, not quite right.

With enough distraction you convince yourself that everything is alright. But it isn't, and deep inside you know it. But what can you do about it. Eventually you stop trying to convince yourself that all is well, but what then. Do you allow yourself to just float away, unbound by the constraints of time or space. Or do you hold to something, anything that is real, as you perceive reality to be. But perhaps that is insanity too. Maybe if I just sit quietly no one will notice and everything will turn out for the best.

The music begins and compels you to chase that song until it drives you nuts, again. If it stops you find yourself spending every waking moment trying to find it. With all of life's doubts the one thing that you are certain of is that the only thing that ever has, or ever will matter is that song.

It taunts you at odd times and places. Sometimes fully orchestrated with complex arrangements. Other times simply bits of harmony and melody. If I dance to its rhythms will it bring me closer to it. Or would everyone else in the room think me crazy. Can they not hear it? Perhaps they hear it too but are also afraid to acknowledge it. Maybe they will join me in dance and song if I could just muster the courage to lead the way to free us all from the constraints of propriety. Or maybe they would just laugh and pity the wretched soul that dances to a song no one else hears.

No, no its better to ignore the music and hope it will leave my being so I can be normal. Just like everybody else. A white picket fence, 2.5 kids and a dog. That's me just a regular person with a regular life that doesn't hear anything that everybody else doesn't hear.

Chapter 2 The yearning

No comments:

Post a Comment