Songwrite 3

Still talking

The bus journey still ringing in my ears
we meet kiss and say hello
and then the glow fades to yellow and blue as we move inside and while the others are laughing we cry. I don’t know why. We cry for those left outside perhaps in the rain. We cry for the yesterdays that weren’t that great. we cry before we run out of money. we cry for the taste of honey. We cry for the dead. We cry for the living. Opalescent blue. Blue light falls over you and you look so beautiful. here in our sin. Our rogue fellowship where we always win.
We cry.as if we never said goodbye.
©2017  Andrew  M Watkins

Juxtapose this…

The only person I have felt something deep for in my adult life was seen a part of the ‘problem’, not the ‘cure’.The same person made me feel loved. The same person made me feel wanted, and amongst other things, useful, intelligent, creative, friendly. But you wouldn’t take him home to meet your mother (although I would have – My mother is quite unflappable)

My family, who, on the whole, have the opposite effect on me are the ‘solution’ hardworking, successful, reliable, trustworthy, god acknowledged folk who are seen to work hard consistently and who you could turn to in a crisis.

In a crisis, when you don’t have the solution, you want to feel secure.

Let’s call this a game, life number one, you can win or lose or both.

How do you do both? I hear you ask…

Both is what I want (I can’t help winning at some things), but one is all I have.

Now the ‘problem’ is gone I have only my ‘sine wave on acid’ emotions as I have named them for the purpose of this piece and my physical family for company.

But a crisis looms (as always) and I feel insecure. So what can I do?

  1. Turn to drink?  Makes me feel better by providing a high and a low at the same time.
  2. Go in search of nighttime pleasures? which provide brief feelings of togetherness.
  3. Write more? which is like a drug.
  4. Search for Mr Right? (who is actually out there-somewhere-of this I am convinced) seemingly impossible – Where Do I begin? Aren’t I better of alone?

Well! What a conundrum!

I should also bring into the picture/equation/conundrum a couple more factors

  1. I am signed off sick from any work due to an enduring mental health condition which on the plus side gives me loads of free time but on the downside makes me feeble – eauuurgghh pass me a hanky!
  2. Time. The moon keeps rising and waxin’ and wanin’ and the seasons come and go like buses. Time waits for no-one, baby.
  3. Loneliness – If you live alone you must get lonely, Right? Or overwhelmed by huge tasks like finding Mr Right, Right? Erm, I think so.(yes)
  4. I am out of the closet to my friends (long time since I saw them) and my family (Who don’t mention it) I forget most days. – I only found out by chance so it’s not like I can just repeat what I did before, right?
  5. It’s probably unwise to ask a general public for help with one’s otherness. I mean I could be asking a mass murderer, right? YDK (You don’t know)

Well, there we have it. So far…

  • I have fulfilled a long forgotten about bucket list item ‘Get one of those personal relationship blogs’ -Unintentional, mais vrai (but true).
  • I did some more writing (which brought a smidgeon of pleasure)
  • I have briefly elucidated a problem (or two) standing between me and Mr (Or Mrs -I am an open minded type of guy) Right.

This is a relationship blog with a difference. I do not have the answers. I honestly do not know what is going to happen…if anything, in the next two weeks. But if you are interested press the follow button and find out what comes next…and I might not be focussed enough…something might happen to me…I will probably forget all about this…

Thanks for reading…see you.

Tired

I take one step forward you take two steps back.

We hold onto each other like we believe the other knows the steps and will take us where we want to go.

In reality I am not sure who is leading who and we don’t even seem to be doing the same dance.

Your beat falls on my count and my count cant take precedent over a a backwards hold you seem to favour.

You have an audience of one. That’s enough for you. I believe.

Now you are gone from the room and i have a mile high pile in my inbox. Why don’t i reject you and your foibles.

Because I love you.I should reject it all the smiles the words the silences but I am more than a dead spider.

I merely shed my skin and the muck sloughs off like corpse skin.

I melt and then I put myself together again, regardless of the consequences. You are that important.

Ahh!