Music, my greatest vice.. I may not be able to remember alot of details about years past, but when I listen to Joy Division's "Closer" the very same record that I listened to on my discman riding the #14 bus down Hawthorne towards downtown to meet her at the square over seven years ago.. it all comes flooding back.
Everything, all of it - the way she smelled, what i was wearing, what she was wearing, the gum on the underside of the seat in front of me, the crusty old man trying to sling hash that was quite obviously a piece of soap wrapped in tinfoil, I remember the bus squealing to a stop as I glanced out of my window to see see her standing on the corner, her red aunts shirt soaked completely through, she waited in the rain for me, and I never thanked her because I took her for granted, or maybe I didn't care at the time.
My music catalogue isn't merely a bunch of unrelated songs and albums so much as it is a vault of memories, any time I want to remember what was previously lost to me for what would have been forever, I just insert the corresponding cd into the cd player, and click 'play' or drop the needle on the record and it's all right there again, in vibrant color, right down to the very last detail.. my own personal memory bank.
Without that bank of memories, and without these records as painful as some of them are to listen to because of the memories they conceal inside, I know that I'd be lost, I know that i would spiral out of control, I would simply stop caring instead of gripping the edges of oblivion and holding on for want and of need for something better, of want to truly be happy instead of just the facade of happiness that I convey with such skillful effortless ease, and yet once again desperation.. but this time around it's a different kind...
Being back in pdx can only be good or bad, the problem is I can't tell which it is yet.
How do you begin to apologize and make amends to a girl that you once emotionally destroyed nearly a decade ago, where the fuck do you start?
Or is this emptiness and grief just the price one pays for being a selfish child in the past?
Am I eternally bound to a lifetime of regret and suffering for something that can never be rectified?
Are my intentions even pure? Do I want this to have closure for her sake, or mine?
The things I would sacrifice to not care instead of just pretending not to care to protect myself from devastation.
Everything, all of it - the way she smelled, what i was wearing, what she was wearing, the gum on the underside of the seat in front of me, the crusty old man trying to sling hash that was quite obviously a piece of soap wrapped in tinfoil, I remember the bus squealing to a stop as I glanced out of my window to see see her standing on the corner, her red aunts shirt soaked completely through, she waited in the rain for me, and I never thanked her because I took her for granted, or maybe I didn't care at the time.
My music catalogue isn't merely a bunch of unrelated songs and albums so much as it is a vault of memories, any time I want to remember what was previously lost to me for what would have been forever, I just insert the corresponding cd into the cd player, and click 'play' or drop the needle on the record and it's all right there again, in vibrant color, right down to the very last detail.. my own personal memory bank.
Without that bank of memories, and without these records as painful as some of them are to listen to because of the memories they conceal inside, I know that I'd be lost, I know that i would spiral out of control, I would simply stop caring instead of gripping the edges of oblivion and holding on for want and of need for something better, of want to truly be happy instead of just the facade of happiness that I convey with such skillful effortless ease, and yet once again desperation.. but this time around it's a different kind...
Being back in pdx can only be good or bad, the problem is I can't tell which it is yet.
How do you begin to apologize and make amends to a girl that you once emotionally destroyed nearly a decade ago, where the fuck do you start?
Or is this emptiness and grief just the price one pays for being a selfish child in the past?
Am I eternally bound to a lifetime of regret and suffering for something that can never be rectified?
Are my intentions even pure? Do I want this to have closure for her sake, or mine?
The things I would sacrifice to not care instead of just pretending not to care to protect myself from devastation.
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cracks me up.
:::::brilliant commentary by robin!