Subversive Musings

An exercise in self-pity and grief

2008-09-30T03:03:00.005-05:00

I've been listening to a lot of Peter Hammill the past week since the person I love the most said she wants a separation. I've also been doing a lot of soul-searching and journaling. I'm on a journey. Right now I'm in a place of extreme sadness and grief. I feel alone and without a friend. I feel like I've got no one to hold me or hug me or comfort me, so here I am, reaching out on the cold, empty 'Net for something. Something to help me stay in the journey rather than find the alternative more appealing, even if the alternative - nothing at all - isn't much different that the nothing at all I feel right now.

No one explains my sorrow better than Peter Hammill. Let's explore:

Alice (Letting Go)
By Peter Hammill

When you told me that you loved me
I had no reason to doubt it
so I went about my life in such a selfish way
and never really thought about it.
Oh do I have to let go?
Oh I had my chance and I've blown it,
'cause I loved you so much all these years
and somewhere in myself, between my pride and fear
just couldn't find a way to show it.

I know it doesn't give you any joy
to give me such pain
but why do I have to say goodbye
when I love you still, and can only feel that I'm dying?
Still, every word I say just seems to come out wrong
and none of them deny the fact that you are gone
and that I'm left here, crying.

Ooh do I have to let go of you
ooh I don't think that I can do it -
you're always going to be the guardian of my soul,
and I'll always have a part of you to call my own,
how stupid that I never proved it.

Oh I know I'll never let go
oh because I don't want to be just your friend.
We spent seven years together in our own way,
I can't believe the story ends like this today....

[This explains my heartbreaking more than any words I could pen. The part about going on in your own selfish way, never thinking about her feelings explains it all]

If I Could
by Peter Hammill

You must be crazy to stay here,
and I'll be crazy when you go;
though there's so much I want to tell you
all the words come out too slow.
I've been locked in my problems,
you seemed prepared to wait...
now that I know I'm going to lose you
all the words come out too late.
There's no promise I can give you that you wouldn't know was fake;
though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make.
And in the morning, when I wake and find you dressing
I can tell that it's on your mind to go for good;
I know that all this time I've kept you guessing,
but I'd tell you if I could.

If I now said that I loved you
how would that seem in your eyes?
Oh, may my voice fall into silence
if my words turn out to be lies.
I never meant to hurt you,
even though that's what I do -
even though you might not believe this
all my words were meant for you.
There's no promise I can give you that you wouldn't know was fake;
though I just want to be with you, there's no show that I can make.
And in the evening, when we sit and watch the TV
I know that this silence just won't do me any good
and I want to beg you, beg you, beg you to believe me...
I'd tell you if I could,
I'd tell you if I could.

[Here, it feels like looking back, wishing I'd taken the time to say things the right way, to do the right things, to show her that my love for her is more than just mere words. I'd do everything and anything, if I could...]

This Side of the Looking Glass
by Peter Hammill

The stars in the heavens still shine
up above me:
how lovely they'd seem
if you were with me
but you're gone through the looking-glass
and I am left to pass these nights alone.

I'm lost, I'm dumb, I'm blind,
I am drunk with sadness,
sunk by madness,
the wave overwhelms me,
the mirror repels me,
the echo of your laugh
drifts through the looking-glass
and I am alone.

No friendship, no comfort, no future, no home,
the past lingers with me:
you're all the love I've ever known
and without you I'm nothing
but empty and silent,
reflecting on all that I've lost.
I let you slip away so soon.

Can you hear me? This is my song:
I am dying; you are gone.

These words are not enough to save my soul,
they just mock me from the mirror.
I'm cold and I'm yearning,
I've told you I'm burning,
my eyes can't stand the light...
like a stray dog in the night
I'll shuffle off alone.

We all make our futures
but I have lost mine;
I'm hoping for a miracle
but finding no sign....

The stars in their constellations,
each one just sadly flickers and falls...
without you they mean nothing at all.

[and the final heartbreak. Looking at the stars and know she's already moved on]

Why am I posting Peter Hammil lyrics? Because I'm sad and alone. I'm writing this at three in the morning in my "new home" in the basement because I can't sleep.

The other day I rode my bike to the library. I saw some families out. Mom, dad, a kid or two in tow, and I miss that. I feel like I'm here to rot in this underground liar, this cold and empty space beneath the floorboards that my wife and daughter walk upon. I feel outcast and alone.

I have three other kids that I moved from. I left them in Omaha to move to this big city. To move to... this.

I'm broken. There's something wrong with me. Something terribly wrong. Why would anyone in their right mind give up something so great, so wonderful, so beautiful, and so full of joy as my family? Why would anyone hurt them and push them away with his selfishness. Why did I make her not love me anymore?

If I wrote lyrics of my own, they might go something like this:

I just want to be normal.
I just want to be loved.
I just want to love.
I want to stop feeling empty
and to stop using pity for pride

With that, it's time to quit the pity-me thing and try to get some sleep. Maybe I'll update this soon. Maybe my next post will explore another base emotion: anger....

BEING THERE

2007-12-23T16:56:00.000-06:00

Merry Shopping! Ho ho ho!

Yes, it’s that time of the year again. Shopping Season! The happiest time of the year!

Believe it or not, I’ve been rather jolly and more generous this year than most. While not exactly a Scrooge, I’m typically pretty tight and admittedly quite selfish and would gladly prefer to receive than give. This year has been different. I’ve participated in a couple of gift exchanges at work. I’ve been more generous with tips when dining out. Hey, I’ve even dropped money into the occasional gift basket here and there. Why the difference?

My wife and I have decided to stop buying into the hype and frenzy of the Capitalmas Season. We aren’t buying gifts for each other, and are only giving modest presents to family and friends. In other words, we’re giving purposely. Rather than buy something just because it’s a “hot” item or the Thneed that everybody is buying, we’re putting time and thought into every and any gifts we buy. That means some of our gifts will be sent out late (or possibly not at all). Buying meaningfully takes time and effort, and we refuse to settle on something just because it’s there.

I especially enjoyed our Secret Santa gift exchange at work. We filled out questionnaires about our likes and dislikes. I read my recipient’s answers and had a long discussion with my wife about what would be nice to give. Together, we created themes for each day. A tube of lip gloss and nail polish became “pamper yourself” day. A bag a chips and a mainstream magazine became “take some time to relax” day. Each day for a week, I dropped something small in her mailbox with a little note explaining the theme. The items were small and inexpensive (as per our Secret Santa rules), but the thought and care put into the gifts made them large and valuable. I gave with a purpose.

For my own family, my primary gift is the one thing no one else can give, and that’s my mere presence.

Being there.

I believe that’s the true gift of Christmas.

Dear Readers, I sincerely hope that some (or all) of you will take the time to give with a purpose, and remember not to forget the most important gift you can gift: your love and presence. Be there and enjoy each other.

73,
William

Taxation Without Representation in the 21st Century

2007-12-16T17:05:00.000-06:00

The United States of America began as a British colony, and still could be part of the British Commonwealth today if not for a serious flaw in the tax structure between the Colonists and the British Parliament. The colonies had no representation in Parliament, and thus no say in the taxes imposed upon them. The term "taxation without representation" came into play during the 1760's, and played a significant contribution to the Declaration of Independence.

Have we gone back to taxation without representation? Ask any resident of Washington D.C. and the answer might be "did we ever leave it?" What about the rest of us? The folks in Washington state, Florida, Nebraska, Utah, Alaska, Hawaii, or any of the other forty-four state not yet mentioned? Are US citizens in these states now being taxed without proper taxation? The author of this blog believes so.

Dear reader, I personally believe I am taxed without representation. My tax dollars go to the federal government, and from there are to be spent wisely by my elected representatives in the House and Senate. According to the War Resisters League [www.warresisters.org], 51% (or $1,228 billion) of our federal funds go toward current and past military expenses, including the so-called "war on terror."

Hey, this ain't my war, and it sure ain't how I want my hard-earned money to be spent. I want my tax dollars to be spent on education and healthcare. I want my tax dollars to provide homes for those less fortunate. I want my tax dollars to help bridge the gap between the wealthy elite and the poorest among us. I want my representatives to enact laws to curb corporate rights and defend the environment. I want my representatives to act on the issues I feel are most important, not spend my money foolishly on the wrong war at the wrong time in the wrong place.

Perhaps I am at fault. When I was a resident of Nebraska, I wrote the occasional letter to my congressmen when an issue arose. I'm sad to report that I have not yet written my representatives since I moved to Illinois last summer. My goal for the next week is to change that. I plan to find out who my national and state level representatives are, and to write each of them a heartfelt letter stating in no uncertain terms exactly how I'd like to tax dollars to be spent. The cynic in me expects the usual canned, stamped-signature response with no change in our government's laws or spending. That means less civil liberties, more social welfare for wealthy corporations, and continued support for war and torture. But the helpless dreamer in me (which only makes rare appearances) hopes to receive a personally written and signed reply, and maybe – just maybe – a change in direction for the county which I am a citizen of.

For those few of you who have taken the time to read this far, thank you for your valuable time and for listening to this one man speak what you may or may not agree with.

73,
William