Joey
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2015
- Messages
- 6,801
I've splayed back on my recliner, rocking it back and forth, with your head in tow to my shoulder. Under the weight of the two of us, it creaked dreadfully to tunes keyed in a splitting architecture. Some atonal groan to say the dead oak tree is fed up with us living our lives on its quarters. Just go already!
We'd all been here before though. Me, you, and our old reclining chair. Hundreds and thousands of times we've ended our days right here in this spot, so it became as old and musty as we are. And here we all are again. Still here for some reason. I realize I'm going on and on this rocking chair, but it's you I really mean to speak to.
I'd always led a solemn life before I met you. I handed over all my hopes and dreams to people who were practically strangers back then! Over and over! My partnerships were passionate, but short lived at best. At the worst of this, they weren't really the kinds of relationships I'd dare call a "relationship" at all anymore. I was often sad, My bleakly wallowing days spent meandering by myself in my own depression of mind was interspersed with flashes of brilliance.
They were amazing dreams I'd have. For them and I. Writ with flowers, and a bow attached with my practiced signature to hold hearts steady. Given to my then illuminated lovers, who all were to fade to gray-scale in a short season. The summer of love always felt more like the "Week of heart break". Then to dignify my rage even more, the gaps between were getting greater as I was getting older. Though I was covering the same distance as any. I was alone, I didn't have anyone to share my life with from a close distance until I met you.
I felt like I was crazy then. I still do, but I’ve got you to weigh me down to this rocker. Duly in place to relax, to slumber. To laugh. Or cry in your neck if I need to. Sometimes just seeing you here, and having you by my side so I can feel your presence mixing into mine. That is enough to get me started. And you’re always accepting of my little breaks from leading life in manhood. You’ve always been there to help me pick the pieces back up again, and again. You’ve truly added some of your own to my visage in many perilous hours. I’ve adopted your brevity in keeping me upright, and in time, I’ve come to rarely falter as badly as I used to. Before I met you. You always fix me up. You've made me better than I ever was.
I’ve always been an oddity, but even an odd one out has displaced normalcy. A thread sewn singly to compliment the world abreast him. Like a patch on an old jacket to show off some unknown punk band, sewn onto something otherwise vested as cleanly and coolly as the thousands of others just like it. The patchwork becomes a part of the fabric. The unknown not only becomes known, but a regular part of the set. This is the extreme uptake of it.
As his patches get sewn on more and more jackets, they become so known they’ve become a fad. And then it’s over. All our lives in the world of the underground, the oddities, the mentally ill, the addicted, the politically radical, and the outright weirdos tend to flash and burn quickly like this. As known or as the knowing unknown – we have a breadth of matter that’s not built to last. Because we don’t fit in. Unless we can find someone, or something to hold us tight. We’re bound to fall apart. As all outsider art seems to be on the fringes, so are we.
I am bound to hold on to you, clinging for dear life while we navigate this vast world – so full of complexities. The events on the waves and the tides of the Earth lure us in. Ever closer to this end we seem to have in sight, so that a mirage seems to spell oasis. But as we’ll never close that distance - we’ll never have an understanding of what’s beyond our own. This is just us. Helpless as all are, but helpless together. You can help me, and you always have for as long as you’ve been rocking the world away with me here. I’ll always be here to help you too. As much as I have the willpower to stand up on my own now, since you’ve given me the strength, I’d rather stand beside you.
But for now let's just lay here and remember when.
We'd all been here before though. Me, you, and our old reclining chair. Hundreds and thousands of times we've ended our days right here in this spot, so it became as old and musty as we are. And here we all are again. Still here for some reason. I realize I'm going on and on this rocking chair, but it's you I really mean to speak to.
I'd always led a solemn life before I met you. I handed over all my hopes and dreams to people who were practically strangers back then! Over and over! My partnerships were passionate, but short lived at best. At the worst of this, they weren't really the kinds of relationships I'd dare call a "relationship" at all anymore. I was often sad, My bleakly wallowing days spent meandering by myself in my own depression of mind was interspersed with flashes of brilliance.
They were amazing dreams I'd have. For them and I. Writ with flowers, and a bow attached with my practiced signature to hold hearts steady. Given to my then illuminated lovers, who all were to fade to gray-scale in a short season. The summer of love always felt more like the "Week of heart break". Then to dignify my rage even more, the gaps between were getting greater as I was getting older. Though I was covering the same distance as any. I was alone, I didn't have anyone to share my life with from a close distance until I met you.
I felt like I was crazy then. I still do, but I’ve got you to weigh me down to this rocker. Duly in place to relax, to slumber. To laugh. Or cry in your neck if I need to. Sometimes just seeing you here, and having you by my side so I can feel your presence mixing into mine. That is enough to get me started. And you’re always accepting of my little breaks from leading life in manhood. You’ve always been there to help me pick the pieces back up again, and again. You’ve truly added some of your own to my visage in many perilous hours. I’ve adopted your brevity in keeping me upright, and in time, I’ve come to rarely falter as badly as I used to. Before I met you. You always fix me up. You've made me better than I ever was.
I’ve always been an oddity, but even an odd one out has displaced normalcy. A thread sewn singly to compliment the world abreast him. Like a patch on an old jacket to show off some unknown punk band, sewn onto something otherwise vested as cleanly and coolly as the thousands of others just like it. The patchwork becomes a part of the fabric. The unknown not only becomes known, but a regular part of the set. This is the extreme uptake of it.
As his patches get sewn on more and more jackets, they become so known they’ve become a fad. And then it’s over. All our lives in the world of the underground, the oddities, the mentally ill, the addicted, the politically radical, and the outright weirdos tend to flash and burn quickly like this. As known or as the knowing unknown – we have a breadth of matter that’s not built to last. Because we don’t fit in. Unless we can find someone, or something to hold us tight. We’re bound to fall apart. As all outsider art seems to be on the fringes, so are we.
I am bound to hold on to you, clinging for dear life while we navigate this vast world – so full of complexities. The events on the waves and the tides of the Earth lure us in. Ever closer to this end we seem to have in sight, so that a mirage seems to spell oasis. But as we’ll never close that distance - we’ll never have an understanding of what’s beyond our own. This is just us. Helpless as all are, but helpless together. You can help me, and you always have for as long as you’ve been rocking the world away with me here. I’ll always be here to help you too. As much as I have the willpower to stand up on my own now, since you’ve given me the strength, I’d rather stand beside you.
But for now let's just lay here and remember when.
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