Thursday, February 7, 2013

Fuel -- Metallica

I guess I'll add fuel to the fire. It's what I do best, anyway.

I guess what I really need to say, on the outset, is that my family is fucking A awesome.

But, and it's hard to explain, they have turned their backs on me. They have torn asunder the support and comfort their love has always provided me before. I know they did so for a very good reason, in their opinions, and in the end they are relentlessly stubborn. That's all right. Inside, though I may be scared and unsure sometimes, is a very strong young woman.

Something inside me believes that I can overcome all obstacles set before me no matter how difficult things seem to be. I also know that if I could change the past there are a lot of things I would. But that's not possible. I know the past cannot be changed. The one thing that I can change is the future.

I suppose it's comforting to you that I have failed. That we failed so completely and miserably that you will forever see us for that failure rather than the fact that we are able to move beyond that failure to have a happy, successful life together. I suppose your own relationship is perfect, far from the possibility of mistakes. You are quipped with judgement and harshness in the face of my mistakes, my significant other's unwise choices, and my own unwillingness to throw away a decade of life and family together. How useful your disdain is while you're looking down your noses at me, at us. You, of course, would never make a mistake, never venture into the realm of amoral behaviour or do anything that is against society's laws. Of course not. That might make you an hypocrit. I suppose you live in a glass house, where no one dares to break any rules, whether society's or your own. You are perfection. And so is everyone in your glass house.

You would not, could not, ever do anything--put yourself into any situation without first considering what others might think about it. Never! You've never acted impulsively or brashly in your life. You've never made a mistake, never done a deliberate wrong, or an impulsive thing that changes your life forever. Of course not.

I, however, dare not say that I have not. I have spoken without thinking, acted on impulse without considering the feelings of others, and, in fact, have made huge mistakes...put myself in risky situations, put my own life in danger, and hurt others along the way. But I own it. I have done things that I'm not proud of, and a great many things that I am proud of, that no one even knows about. Some of which I will certainly take to the grave--because to brag about doing something good for another human being merely demonstrates a desire to be acknowledged for being a good person, when I don't need anyone else's opinion on the matter.

If you can honestly go to sleep every night without regretting a single thing you've ever done, then you're probably a sociopath. Perfection and infallibility is for Gods. Mistakes are for humans.

It's useless to claim superiority, infallibility, or perfection. It's useless to attempt to defend my decisions or the sometimes tumultuous turn of events in my life. When my life is over, it's last page turned, I will be able to say that I lived life imperfectly, but fully.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Say Hello 2 Heaven -- Temple of the Dog

Dead Moms Club


The first rule of Dead Moms Club: don't talk about Dead Moms Club. 

(Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. For those of you unfamiliar with this reappropriated movie quote: you missed it!) 

You can talk about Dead Moms Club. If you dare...


Second rule: you can join the club if you meet the following criteria: 
1. Your mom is dead.
2. You're upset about it. (Sociopaths need not apply, of course.)


This isn't a club that you want to join, like Classics Club or something, but it's a lifetime membership. Once you're in, you're in.


Members of this highly inclusive club do not discriminate against those who are in the Dead Dads Club or the Dead Parents Club, in fact, interpersonal relations between members of all clubs is highly recommended.


Meetings of Dead Moms Club are irregular, and no participation is actually required for membership.

A sense of humor is greatly appreciated among members, but only necessary if you don't wish to be offended.


Participation includes, but is not limited to: 


Writing, conversing, laughing, and crying 


Reading books you know your mom must have read and wondering what she thought about them


Hearing one of your mom's favorite songs and thinking, Hey this is one of Mom's favorite songs!


Watching a movie that was one of your mom`s favorites. Watching a movie that your mom bought for you just because you wanted it.


Thinking about your dead mom
at random moments in your life and appreciating what time you did have together.