Vicious Pink - Cccan't You See [3:33m]: Play in Popup
Once. Once I had a best friend. We met by chance, just because I wanted to know who sang this song, and he knew the answer. It’s Vicious Pink, by the way. They sang background vocals on Soft Cell’s hit album in the 80s. And that is how it all began. We started talking and we just couldn’t stop. We talked about everything and nothing. We argued and then made up. Every waking moment, everything I did, I shared with him. He listened patiently even when I was self-centered and self-obsessed. For ever so many years, we never ran out of things to say. We talked all night and didn’t notice. He could make me laugh when I was down, and he could make me angry when he acted like he no longer cared about the world around us. We could lose ourselves in complete silliness and revel in laughter for hours. And we could fight. But in the end, we always understood each other. I could always see how just a few more wounds, a few more blows, and I would be exactly like him. Yet I wanted him to change, to be something different.
Unfortunately, that never happened. Maybe because I pushed too hard, or maybe because I didn’t allow it. Maybe because it would have never happened no matter what I did. And, in the end, I gave up. A collision of unfortunate circumstances in my life made me realize how much I needed a partner who could truly support me when I was fighting against the world. And he couldn’t do that for me because, perhaps, he couldn’t yet do that for himself. Nine years had passed. How much longer could I wait?
In my life, I have pushed away so many people who have loved me that it has become almost instinctual. And I ended up doing it again. To this day, I am ashamed of my behavior; it was inexcusable, unforgivable, and unforgettably ugly. But even after that, at my worst moments, he stood by me, still. It’s all over now, but I will never forget the wonderful, talented, beautiful person that he is. Perhaps if I were stronger, I could have helped him realize his limitless potential. Yet I was weak. I wandered and strayed, and I wrapped myself in silly fantasies and illusions, looking for a knight in shining armor to solve all my problems for me. But that’s not how life works. In healthy relationships, support is always a two-way street.
Anyway, I think that when you truly love someone, the love never dies. I do not believe that real love turns to hate. I don’t believe it ever fades completely. It’s always somewhere in the back of your mind, even as you move on with your life and find love elsewhere.
I know that I will never forget the sound of his voice, the way he looked at me, and the wonderful times we had together. I will never forget the way he understood what no one else ever could. I hope he knows how much I love him, and that even though life takes us in different directions, my love and friendship will always remain.
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
One day, we all must die, but for now, we can be heroes — just for one day.
The words below were written by a friend of mine, Ryan Gagne — a very talented and charming man.
Memento Mori
My candle has been lit
(Memento Mori)
I hope it has a long wick
(Memento Mori)
For some, the flame burns hot and bright
(Memento Mori)
Yet for others, it sheds little light
(Memento Mori)
Many candles burn slow; they last
(Memento Mori)
Countless others burn far too fast
(Memento Mori)
I watch the wax drip to the plate
(Memento Mori)
While I ponder things like fate
(Memento Mori)
The fire flickers white, blue, and red
(Memento Mori)
As the taper melts, I feel no dread
(Memento Mori)
I am happy, and I am at peace
(Memento Mori)
I know not when the flame will cease
(Memento Mori)
I will live life in the now
(Memento Mori)
Before I take my final bow
(Memento Mori)
And when my candle is snuffed out
(Memento Mori)
Let it be said I did not pout
Memento Mori
Memento Mori
Memento Mori
By Ryan Gagne. All copyrights to the words above belong solely to Ryan Gagne, and to no one else.
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
Robert Plant - Thru With The Two Step: Play in Popup
I have just a few words for today, mainly because I don’t want to draw attention away from David’s lovely poem below. It’s worth reading, and it’s worth reading more than once. And what I have to say right now isn’t entirely unrelated, at least in the sense that the experiences we have are what make up the patchwork of our lives; sometimes forgotten, sometimes recalled at the least expected moment, sparked by some stimulus — a sound, a sensation, a scent, a sweet kiwi-strawberry taste.
But today, my point is simply this. There are many things in life that we can’t help. We can’t help who we were born to, how we were raised, our intrinsic intelligence, the way we look, the sounds of our voices. We have to live with these things. They are, for the most part, immutable; and some are luckier in the lottery of chance than others. So be it.
There are, however, things that we can change. We can change our behavior. We can change the way we treat others. And we can change our minds. (I’m not going to get into a determinism argument here — as far as I’m concerned, perception of free will is its equivalent. Does nature give rise to nurture? Who the fuck cares. Not me. Not now.)
The reality is that it’s never too late to take a critical look at yourself and think about the things you may be doing to make yourself unhappy. And then, perhaps, to try living life a different way — again, and again, and again… until you mold your finite existence into what you want it to be. Will this make you rich and famous? Probably not. Will this make you happier with yourself and those around you? Probably. And, in the end, that’s all that matters.
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
– Written by my good friend, David Eadington. One day, I will beat him at Scrabble just one more time…
How the smell of burnt pop tart
opens a door you can’t believe ever closed,
or how a shapeless cloud skating
through a boundless blue sky
strums some chord bundled deep
within you. Your eyes suddenly
aflood before you sense the tang
of what you must have known, once.
Lives are built by patchwork;
a humdrum yesterday tar-papers
over the $40 cognac savored alone
at the Algonquin reading Dorothy Parker,
which in turn pasted over something else:
the way Chris’ hand clutched your hip,
how your father couldn’t look you in the eye.
Beneath the silt of days,
Handfuls of memory harden as you lean
on them, crystallizing into waypoints
that map how you came to who you are:
the New York with port butter, the final word
in that spelling bee. How she tasted
of vanilla and sugar, and you never looked back.
But still, three chords from a forgotten lover’s
favorite song call forth the scent of winter sunlight,
faded lace, and a loss that courses
beyond the farthest tip of your essence.
- by David Eadington — copyrights and all that jazz belong solely to him.
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
written by Gordon Wilson (and edited slightly by bluharmony).
Oscar Wilde once said, “the value of an idea has nothing whatever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it.” I hope you all take this into account while reading this little bit of meandering prose.
To begin, I rarely, if ever, share any of my writing. Not sure why. Most likely I have never really had anything pertinent to say. Not that this will win me any awards or praises, but sometimes we all have to let our guard down and purge the psyche. An enema of thought. And what better way to do it than with an audience. Don’t mind me if I picture you all naked. This fear of expunging and all.
I have four half eaten jars of olives in my fridge. I have no clue why. The rest of my fridge seems to be in order. Checks and balances. Cheese where it should be, milk not yet expired, lettuce in the crisper, and sorbet in the freezer. Yet there they are, four soldiers, wounded but not yet dead. A lot can be said for this and who I am. Perhaps I am obsessed with pimento, or am just too lazy to get the fork down into the bowels of the jar. Or, I am just unorganized and forgetful. Maybe, just maybe, they are not there, and I don’t exist. Food for thought ( pun totally intended). (Bluharmony says: I always wondered about those olive jars…)
Olives though really have nothing to do with what I wanted to discuss. I want to talk about hypocrisy and the fact that we all suffer from it to some degree. I know I do. I consider myself sensitive to the needs of others, but I have often pushed them away. I have no clue what love really is, yet I am in love. Money means nothing to me, but only because I have a few dollars in my pocket. I am an atheist, yet wonder if by advertising it I am not giving more credence to a higher being. On an individual level, this is merely human nature, I think. We are all selfish to a degree and often have two trains of thought that will fill a niche when needed. As long as trust and true honesty are not compromised, and no one loses an eye, these little inner foibles can be reconciled.
However, duplicity on a grand scale, really gets my socks in a knot (standing on my soap box). We get spoon fed euphemisms from oil cartels and the pharmaceutical industry and like lemmings we jump off the cliff and into their pandering pocketbooks. I am not a conspiracies buff by any stretch, yet it would seem to me that as long as they keep us drugged and driving they will have us eating out of the palms of their greedy hands. And we know governments and law makers, for all their so-called good intentions, will never really do anything about it. The taxes and funding they receive from these companies are enormous. As an aside, this is the same reason smoking will never be outlawed. (Blu’s editorial comment: too bad.)
Ok, so maybe that wasn’t a cleansing of my soul, but more like the ranting of an old jaded guy, but believe me when I say I have a lot of issues. (Who the hell doesn’t?)
I think I’ll go buy a jar of olives….
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
My thoughts are racing, and I have way too much to say to write a real blog entry right this minute. Besides, I have work that needs to be turned in tomorrow and, procrastinator that I am, I plan to be up all night. This is not easy for me to do lately; I need my sleep — I am no longer young or healthy enough to function well after a sleepless night.
But I know that if I don’t write at least a little every once in a while, my blog will wither away just like so many other hobbies and ideas that have come and gone in my life. And I’m not ready for that yet — I have far too much to say. Moreover, I have lots of other people’s work that I would like to share as well.
Anyway, so I’ll stop for a brief moment and write a word or two about myself…
As I was driving around today and running errands, words were circling in my mind, as always. I find that I’m constantly “writing” in my head as I’m doing mundane tasks, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), most of this “mental writing” never reaches paper or keyboard. Anyway, the thoughts that kept running through my head today went something like this: “The mind will always blindly follow the heart, while the heart needs the mind to convince it.” I’m not sure exactly what that means, although I know I can write on the topic for hours. I won’t bother. But I will say this. I’m much happier these days. I no longer cry every night; the icy-cold nightmares are fading. And around my neck, I’m no longer wearing a frog prince, but a heart of diamonds.
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
It’s 5 AM and I still can’t sleep. I don’t really feel like writing, so I will just say this: when you find a treasure, you don’t let it go. But wonderful as it would be to spend the rest of one’s days living in harmony, new problems will come up just as old ones are resolved. And that’s OK. Because problems are so much easier to deal with when you no longer have to face them alone.
(And as a side note, to those who know about my recent misadventures, everything was resolved in a way far better than I could imagine. As much as I hate to say it, a good lawyer is always worth the money. And I should always trust my instincts. But most importantly, I should learn to ignore what my mother thinks and says about my decisions. Besides, everything is predetermined, anyway. *winks*)
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
(The featured song is Goodbye Horses by Q Lazzarus from the Silence of the Lambs soundtrack. I tend to find lots of interesting music on soundtracks. Maybe it’s because someone else has already painted the picture for me. Then again, maybe it’s mere coincidence.)
In an odd turn of events, I find myself writing DUI defense briefs. Life plays tricks. Who needs magicians?
–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.
