26 September 2012

I Still Was A Madman

Thanks to a friend on FB, now there is this...stuck on loop....

Funny story about this song...well, probably not funny, but yeah....

The first time I ever heard it was at the end of this movie: 

I was all of about 9 years old. My aunt used to take me to movies at least once a month, probably more. I always got to see the cool movies and shows when I hung out with her. Anywhooooo, I think this was probably the first time my young, impressionable mind ever got acquainted with the idea that someone on TV was NOT living inside the television, but could also move to the big screen at will.  Henry Winkler was no longer walking around with his hair slicked back and his thumbs waving in the air. And clearly, I don't even remember that Harrison Ford was also making his way through the universe with a fuzzy counterpart and two less-than-technologically advanced robots. Ah, to be young and ignorant again.  

Watching "Heroes" was also probably the first time I had witnessed a character that was clearly there, or getting to losing his mind. Thusly, I remember vividly the fact that he carried around a worm farm in a shoe box. 

All too often, I feel like I'm masquerading with a reason. Like my existence actually means something. I guess it's what gets me up and keeps me going. Whatever it takes, right? But then, on the flip side, I sit and ponder just what the fuck the point is of all this mess we call life. I think my charade includes focusing on the little, menial, unimportant events of any given day just so I can pretend that maybe life won't come to an end without me having ever accomplished anything other than just surviving. 

I don't want to exist without ever having done SOMETHING that matters. I guess I just haven't quite figured out yet what I can do that WILL matter....what WILL make a difference. For now, I just keep carrying on and hoping that there really will be peace when I am done. Que Sera, Sera, eh?  

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher
But I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I can hear them say

Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, well
It surely means that I don't know

On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune
But I hear the voices say


Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry, don’t you cry no more… no more

23 September 2012

Cellar Doors and Damage Plans

Of course, it's been a while. I'm nothing if not persistent in my pursuit of delaying the inevitable. I can't even tell you when last I wrote and I'm not looking because then I'd get back to that delay tactic.  Adapt or die, eh?  

So, I wake up to this going through my brain. I'm not a HUGE Neil Young fan, but this, I believe, is one of his masterpieces. That and it's got the phrase "Cellar Door". And only because I'm a HUGE Donnie Darko fiend, do I care about such a phrase. 

So many things have happened during my time away. Yet, I'm always looking for ways to forget about the things that are most troubling. The master of deceiving myself.  A form of survival, I suppose. Guess that's why the song applies. We're all junkies for something. Doesn't have to be a drug.....pick something. Pick anything. No matter the object, there's a junkie for it, out there somewhere.  

Pick your poison. Whatever gets you through the day, right? Not necessarily. More like, whatever helps you pretend like everything is ok, always has been and always will be. Keeps us comfortable. Keeps us numb. Keeps us from fighting tooth and nail to get to where we want to be. 

Sorry if I'm being a bit cryptic. The stories are too long to tell. Just want to bring to light the observation that the only way to throw away the needle is to get up and move past it. Let it keep knocking. Just don't answer the cellar door. 

This may signify my return....or maybe it's just a fleeting fancy. Won't know til tomorrow. xo 

I caught you knockin' at my cellar door 
I love you, baby, can I have some more 
Ooh, ooh, the damage done. 

I hit the city and I lost my band 
I watched the needle take another man 
Gone, gone, the damage done. 

I sing the song because I love the man 
I know that some of you don't understand
Milk-blood to keep from running out. 

I've seen the needle and the damage done 
A little part of it in everyone 
But every junkie's like a settin' sun.