Questions of Validity
Sometimes the question of my own existence is justified. I question where I stand and on what ground and in what position and wearing which shoes. What piece of me has ground itself into your mind and does your seven-second-sweep brush the dust away entirely? Does the melody repeat on an endless loop that you've tuned out during winter gray sky Christmas radio? Is it wrong to haunt you and to annoy you on purpose with little proddings and interruptions for no other reason but to keep fast hold of my grip on your being? If I shake, does your vision blur? And if I let go, do you notice the cold and awake with a startle to a lamp dimly burning and a regretful notion of loss? When you are searching for the right word and your lost sock and the keys and the tip of your tongue tingles because you almost have it, is it me that is blocking the path? And is it wrong for me to place myself there?
It takes six albums of Broken Social Scene today before I let it go. And tomorrow it may be five but the answer to my question is that I shouldn't ask this question of you. I take two pills every two hours and I burn myself on the roof of my mouth drinking tea too soon and wanting all these replies to be yours. Even though that is no more fair of me than these piles of snow when no one needs any more snow. But the replies are there and they call me and text me and send emails and write comments and I know my answers lie somewhere inside them. I know it. That my loss is always felt. That they take notice. That I stand on memories and melodies ground so finely into dust that they will never be swept. That they can tell when I am not being myself and when I'm somewhere I don't belong. And that this is all that should be important to me. That your dissenting vote is drowned out by a chorus of support and majority rules.
But of course it is never enough because I am me and I always will be me and everything is always so important. So I pass on all these options. I don't hear these cries for support. They tell me they miss me and that they will always be here for me and I wonder why not you. My question goes unanswered because you never heard it asked because you don't know I am here to ask it. If you don't use a pathway, it fades away and your mind makes other connections. In a sense it never existed. So I wonder about my validity. My justification. And my existence. How everyone else can tell the difference. And how you don't even know you should be trying to do the same.
Posted by heydomsar
2008-02-12
go back | random brainstorm | go forth
Rachel Ray - 2009-05-03
The cold wind was the reason - 2009-03-02
The Collected Wisdom of Angela Chase - 2009-02-15
All's well that ends well. - 2009-01-07
In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. - 2008-10-04
