Thursday, July 28, 2011

perfect weather to fly

There are only two things in the world that can heal me, comfort clean rejuvenate revitalise remind me; mountains and music.

Much money and time has gone into taking myself to mountains - the Andes! the Himalayas! - and it is effort enough that it only happens maybe once a year if I am particularly studious. Music is much more obliging. There's just some special power these two things...these ideas have, the power to erase an identity while maintaining an awareness. The power to make you so irrelevant and insignificant that you are free.



But it must be live, and it must be loud. I couldn't breathe because the music filled my lungs and there was no room for blood with the music roaring in my veins and there was no space for me-

And I am free.

This is. You see. The medication.
The medication is a thief. Perhaps it took the edge off the hurt, but it took the altitude from the highs as well. Take me away from me and I am a roaring fireball of joy. So often I am stormy seas, I am the howling heart, I am fury - the medication does not take that. And I can howl from delight just as loudly, the earthquake is from glee, the satellites buzz my ear I am so high so exhilarated so glorious.

It takes important things. They are all important things. It has stolen what this blog post was going to be about.

Of course I cry anonymous and alone in a crowd. The music demands nothing less than to pay fealty to its majesty. But I also cried from grief, as even as I was giddy with love, I knew this couldn't last. This magnificence is like smoke; you inhale and it is everything, and then, you exhale, and it is gone.

This message is for you. by sirtessa

I wanted to say to you, that, right now I am a superhero. I love you strangers known and unknown, and could heal all your heartsores by just looking at you, because I'm radiation, you can't see feel taste touch hear the wonder and I can't contain it, it's bleeding from me and into you and loosening your fears. All I need do is hook my littler finger around your thumb and you'll be up here with me, among the satellites. Tonight is beautiful, and tomorrow will be too.

I wanted to say that, while it was true.


But I have exhaled.









And it is not.

3 comments:

  1. We love you anyway, grounded hero. You don't need to lift anybody by the fingers. We will all soar and plummet and roll and combust as one.

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  2. Beautifully written as always

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  3. strangers known and unknown -- we're still your tribe and we're pulling for you and your howling heart. it will all be alright, for you, for me, because if you don't accept from the outset that it will be alright, then it's not and that would suck. The heart howls and the mental ecstasy explodes and the overload of feelings may be unbearable, but without them, what's the point? or not.

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