Monthly Archives: February 2019

My Mortality

Life is a joke
With a punchline behind it
A journey with
Few answers to find and
I don’t have a sense of humor
Today
Not into the latest rumors
You’ll say
A lot on my mind and
Too undecided
And still one thing of
Which I’m reminded

My morality
Correlates with causality
And every scene is of
My mortality
My reality
Is nothing but a fallacy
And every meaning ends with
My mortality

The smoke of lies and
I’m still here blinded
With each new day worried
I’ll be blindsided
But maybe I can fool you
Today
Say everything is cool with
Decay
It’s on my mind and
Death not far behind it
It’s the one thing of
Which I’m reminded

My morality
Correlates with causality
And every scene is of
My mortality
My reality
Is nothing but a fallacy
And every meaning ends with
My mortality

Inherent danger
In angst and anger
And life is strange, but
Death is stranger
We’re killing time
And we’re waiting for it
But really time
Is the killing one, yet I
Don’t even mind
‘Cause we’re
Still surviving
For now alive
But still I am reminded

My morality
Correlates with causality
And every scene is of
My mortality
My reality
Is nothing but a fallacy
And every meaning ends with
My mortality

 

Commentary:

I was feeling a little bleak and wrote this one. One of the side effects of mild depression is, as I understand it, thinking about death. I don’t suppose I’ve been in the area of self-harm for a long time, but I do worry a lot about death. I keep telling myself not to, because it only happens once, and then it’s over.

The search for meaning continues.  Everything that I give a part of myself to, I wonder, will it count for anything?  I know I won’t be remembered at a job or a company for anything.  I’ve left my faith behind.  I don’t think highly of my efforts as husband and father, especially given some of the songs I’ve posted here about very personal matters that arguably should have remained private, even at the cost of keeping the songs it inspired hidden from view.  So there are issues, there, in wondering if who I am, what I’m capable of, means something.  Or worse, if it means something bad.

Perhaps I should just follow the advice of Hazel Grace in The Fault in Our Stars and just ignore it, instead of worrying about oblivion.  I can’t believe I read that book and still had to web search for her name, but here we are.  Anyway, that’s all.  Thanks for reading.

Valentine, Stay

Can I confess
My loneliness to you?
I’m thinking yes
To everything you want to do
I’ve waited here
Holding onto dreams of us
And now it’s time
I’m reaching out to offer you my trust

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

I couldn’t sleep
But when I dreamed
I held you hand in hand
I want to be
Your everything
Beside you I would stand
Through hardest days
And longest ways
That life so often has
I’m here to say
We’ll be okay
Until the storm has passed

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

And no more tears
On Valentine’s
It’s no longer one day
Now that you’re here
Now that you’re mine
It’s called Valentine, Stay
So wipe your eyes
Or better yet
I’ll do it for you
I’ll cherish every
Breath of time
Like drops of morning dew

Today
You’re my Valentine
Today
I want you to be mine
Today
I’m in love with you
You’ve struck me right
There through the heart
Now what you’re going to do
Is stay

Commentary:

This song is somewhat following the idea of my previous song, a hypothetical love song to me by someone hypothetically/implausibly fascinated by me.  I’m uncomfortable tagging it or writing it as a Valentine’s Day song, as that’s not something I’m into.  But maybe I’m trying something new by exploring it in my writing.

Would I want for my wife to feel this way about me?  I’m not even sure I could say yes. Self-esteem factors in, there.  How could anyone ever feel like that about someone like me?  I don’t think I’d want to believe it.  I think it would scare me.  It feels almost sinful, using the term loosely, to want to be cherished like they sing about in the songs.  To truly be seen.  Must be nice.  But not very practical or rational.

But there’s the problem of, quite simply, “What do I deserve?”  I’ve wrestled with that for decades now.  Perhaps such writings are cathartic, in a way.  It’s easier to write about it, and then turn that feeling off, deal with reality.  I’ve been afraid of that, of being receptive to love, and so it probably led me to think, well, I don’t deserve it.  I doubt anyone’s here for the commentary, so…enough of that. Thanks for reading.

A Valentine To Myself

I’m jealous
So very jealous
Of every kiss I see
Saying, “I wish
There was a kiss
Just like this, meant for me.”
Helpless
So very helpless
The day I saw that she
Had some flowers
And some candy
And then she said to me,
“Who’s
Your Valentine?”
And I could never say
She was mine
‘Cause half the time
My heart got in the way
But that’s the problem
Within the sorrow
I forgot where love begins
If you start it
You cannot borrow
It comes from deep within

Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I fell
With a card
I will start
A Valentine to myself
Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I’ve failed
Write a card
Although it’s hard
A Valentine to myself

It’s painful
When Cupid aims for
Everyone but me
But shameful
Never changed, so
The bed is still empty
I’d shower
Her with flowers
But I still can’t forget
About the orchids
Laying broken
From the day she left
You can’t solve it
With lots of chocolate
Bathed in shiny red
As is often the case
We’ve forgotten to say
Who we should love the best
But that’s the problem
With the sorrow
It’s why I never win
From the start been
Brokenhearted
And buried deep within

Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I fell
With a card
I will start
A Valentine to myself
Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I’ve failed
Write a card
Although it’s hard
A Valentine to myself

No one told me
I’d be so lonely
In a crowded room
“Oh, if only
She could hold me”–
It’s the same old tune
And love
Is but a bluff
When your hand is empty
It’s tough
And not enough
To ease the pain that’s in me
If even half
Of what I have
Was given back in loving
Maybe that
Would in fact
Leave me wanting for nothing

Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I fell
With a card
I will start
A Valentine to myself
Draw hearts
Around my heart
For every time I’ve failed
Write a card
Although it’s hard
A Valentine to myself

 
Commentary:

I’m not sure I like this song as much as I wanted to when I had the idea for it, but I tried. Might be worth trying again sometime. Well, the chorus I like, but I have doubts about the rest.

It came from this thought I had, because I have hated Valentine’s Day for more than 20 years. I referenced a moment in my life when I saw someone I had a crush on with candy and balloons from everyone else, but I wasn’t supposed to celebrate Valentine’s Day (“a good story,” as Maz Kanata once said, “for another time”), so I couldn’t give her anything.

I’ve never really experienced it for myself, and…this year I had a thought, “What if I just buy something and write a Valentine to myself?” What if I could pretend to love myself the way I always imagined it would feel like? What would I say? I don’t know.

It’s strange that I should even have the thought, as it hasn’t mattered in all this time. Or at least I’ve done my best to ignore it, call it “Singles Awareness Day”, or something like that. I’m not alone anymore, but I still don’t get to wake up next to the person I’m sharing my life with. It’s complicated? Am I asking you, or telling you? It’s complicated. Anyway, thanks for reading.