Eye rain

Did you ever have one of those moments where you looked at something you've seen a million times before, but suddenly for some inexplicable reason, you see it differently? Occassionaly it happens with really good art. Flim, for example. The Graduate is terrific for this. You can watch it once a week for a year, and on the fifty-third viewing you'll notice something you never spotted before. Occassionally it happens with people. Perhaps there's someone you've known for years, and then one moment you look up and think "holy shit. this this is the most beautiful, incredible person i've ever met in my life! how could i not have seen it sooner?!" it happens.

i had one of those moments this weekend. not the falling in love kind i mention above (though that's happened to me before). this one was over a song. I was sitting on the stairs in the middle of the house, comforting the geriatric beagle who was afraid of the thunderstorm that was roaring outside. I was also crying for the umpteenth time that weekend and thinking "for fuck's sake, I just wish I could wake up in the morning and go to bed in the evening and not cry in between. If only I could get through one goddamnfucking day without bawling like a baby." Suddenly a song came into my head. Maybe it was the sound of the rain outside, but I found myself serenading the dog with...

I know a woman became a wife
These are the very words she uses to describe her life:
She said a good day ain't got no rain
She said a bad day's when I lie in bed and think of all the things I might have been.

Having been raised on s&G I've known the words to this song since I was seven, and I've sung it hundreds of times before. Now I get it. Yes, before I knew what the words meant, but now I understand it on a level that frankly is a little scary. I'm slip sliding away.

I walked down the street after the storm, and felt the warm water on the pavement slip between my toes. I watched the sky turn gold and the houses pink and the grass blue in the twilight, and I felt like I wasn't a part of the world. I'm just an observer, no participant. I'm not living, I'm exisitng, a half-life, a ghost. To be, or not to be? Yes please. One or the other. Life or death, pick one damnit. Even Hamlet never considered purgatory a viable option. What am I doing here? Waiting. For what? Life to return. From where? Don't know. How long will I be here? Don't know that, either. How did I get here? Not sure, but it was probably my fault. How do I get out? A wing and a prayer? Deliverance? Elbow grease and bootstraps? Fuck if i know, all or none.