I'm still losing the battle against myself. And the scary part is that I care less and less about it. The ego seems to be taking over, the superficial me, pushing the self aside. The mind knows it's a bad idea to fall back - reminds me of the genius of a hole -, but the heart just wants the hurt to stop.
Sam's Town is one of my all time favorite albums in the world. I found it going through my dad's vast CD collection when I was 17 years old. He had just gotten it. He would go to the MediaMarkt in the next town over, where you can listen to basically all the CDs they offered. He'd spent hours going through music, ending up buying one or two disks. Sam's Town was one of them, and I copied it instantly, turned it into Mp3. Great deal of nostalgia there. And as it is with many great works of art, the songs evolve in their meaning to me as I evolve. Listening more closely. Relating differently. Music is the best.
It hurts me. The ego. Not Lily. Lily is fine, superficially, but whatever she may feel does not justify hurting for her, empathically. It's me. The injustice of it all, the cruelty, the undeserved attacks. The ego does not like that. Understandably so. And the ego, being driven by anything but rationality, wants to get away. So here I am, given into working more for the success in sales and the money that comes with it, drinking more for that buzz that blurs the world, gaming more for that dopamine rush that makes it alright, having the cellphone reproduce series or podcasts indefinitely so I don't have a minute to be alone with myself.
I'm not Uncle Johnny. I know that it doesn't take away the pain at all. It doesn't even make it bearable. It just pushes it down, for another day to break out and destroy something that was not deserving. Reflecting all that is done to me, to my ego, back onto someone who might be a dickhead, but does not deserve that level of repercussion because nobody does. Okay, some do. But it would be for the wrong reasons.
"It's not so bad. It'll be alright. Everything happens for a reason." Desperate people in the eye of blatant injustice, evil even. Being reminded of its existence. Being scared of what could be, what could happen to them, too. Being scared of silence. Of the impotence in a situation like that.
A friend of mine died this week. Fast developing, end stage cancer. Last time I saw him, I gave him his favorite bread, hugged him, told him that I loved him, and had him talk about his wife and how he was trying not to be a burden. It wasn't going to be alright. We both knew.
And even if it will be alright - it doesn't change the now. Doesn't change the moment, the pain. It doesn't just go away by knowing aka trusting that it'll all be alright, eventually, some day.
I know that I can make it. I know I will.
Post written for the #saturdayselections by Galenkp inviting us to share music in the Weekend Experiences community on Saturdays.
Please feel free to engage in any original way, including dropping links to your posts on similar topics. I'm happy to read (and curate) any quality content that is not created by LLM/AI.
