song of the week: deep purple, child in time
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OorZcOzNcgE
if there ever was any doubt why i love purple. but no.
i would give a month of my holidays to watch them play live.
ah, the great seventy. i wonder, i really wonder, what it feels like to be a man at that age. i mean, at that point, i guess most would feel as if there's nothing left that can physically be achieved. maybe this feeling will come earlier. well i hope i won't feel as if there's nothing otherwise left that can be achieved. but what would it feel like? to feel that there would only be a few years of time left to do something meaningful for those you love, to at least be a model of aged satisfaction. to feel that all past grievances might as well be relinquished, all regrets might as well be forgotten, any wish for one more achievement might as well be extinguished... what would it feel like, to live without wanting more life, or more of life. what would it feel like to be waiting for the end of life? i don't know if it would be a feeling of unmotivation, or of purposelessness and disconnectedness. but i suspect it would feel like never having to wind your own spring, day by day, day after day. and if you stop and think about it, perhaps when you're old you might never need or want to get going again. but just as easily, we could stop and think, just right now. for who knows, who knows tomorrow, right.
i once had this sort of feeling, for six weeks. in truth, i was at sispec, expecting to move on to ocs. of course, that never happened. but i got the feeling that i was only there for the time being, and being in that frame of mind, i realised that i stayed disconnected. i felt like i was in a temporary place, and ended up being a totally (and to me, weirdly) nice person on the outside. it was very strange. if i didn't think the people around me would matter in six weeks time, i never thought worse of them or judged them or measured them. but neither did i accept them. and that is something i will never do again. i don't care how nice i seem, and that often goes without having to be said. but i always try to accept somebody. and i guess that's the key, isn't it? time is nothing, next to compassion, next to empathy, next to love.
now. the past three weeks of the holidays have turned out exactly as i didn't care to foresee, that is, uneventfully. of course, i watched the playoffs, one of the first times in my life i've ever been able to enjoy some moments of them. but to be honest, i've been spending my days trying to fill them up, day in and night out. ever since this tactical patience, oh i'm so sick of it, though...
and i'm not afraid yet but i'm afraid of the insidiousness of it. i'm afraid of the slippery hands of time, i'm afraid of... i'm afraid that... and i can't change anything. i'm afraid that it's going to be hopeless, and only more and more so. i'm afraid that i'm waiting on a loss. i'm afraid it'll be like it was with joanne.
sweet child in time, you'll see the line
the line that's drawn between, the good and the bad
see the blind man, shooting at the world
bullets flying, taking toll
if you've been bad, lord, i bet you have
and you've not been hit by flying lead
you'd better close your eyes,
oh, bow your head
wait for the ricochet
ah, fuck it. i'm not afraid of shit. i'll live a man. i challenge you, loneliness, and you, despair, and you, rejection. i challenge all of you.
