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this song has no title
October 29, 2004
first, i want anyone coming here to go here.
Go to the link Julie posts for the Letter to America, under "some things". Whether you love or have doubted the sincerity or message of Eminem or rap in general, this is a powerful piece of work. Kudos to Julie for passing on its strength.
Then, send Julie some love, because she deserves it, and wonderful though she is, she needs it as much as many of us.
Now. What I have to say tonight, or, i suppose, this morning. Again, not funny, not what many of you come here to read. Looking at the 3 pages scrawled in the notebook, it's ugly. But it's what I've promised to do here, uncensored. It's me, in a corner, alone, with a notebook, and my sixth or seventh pint, open...
fado's. writing central. inspiration born of alcohol, disillusionment, hope, observation, recognition, denial. heather and her dad have left, after i have pissed at least heather off, with my off-kilter political ideas, my doubts and equivocations. as if i need to be alienating any of my best friends at this point in my life.
the place is packed tonight. the regulars, the guys with the irish, british, scottish accents have all left, perhaps knowing that the evening Thursday night tide would wash precisely all these other people in. some are fairly normal, dressed for a good time, dressed in hope, dressed in fear. but the vast majority, are people i frankly can't really stomach.
bullshit boys, wearing fashion without style, talking shit, talking power without purpose or intellect or care, just the exhibition of status. girls playing along.
do i sound bitter? yes. sour grapes? to an extent, yes. but i also call myself hypocrite. i am prey to the same weaknesses that give rise to what i despise. i want to see and fall in love. i want to see beauty and be able to touch it. i'm as superficial as anyone. i learned early, learned what people think beauty and desirability and coolness are. at the same time, in some ways, i survived the process of indoctrination, so i reside somewhere in between, a place without solutions or answers, and often, a place without love.
i did fall prey enough times, wanting to join the elite, wanting things to come so easily, wanting to be so unquestionaingly loved, wanting beauty to be so attainable, wanting to be worth something to everyone, wanting to be worth everything, wanting to be beautiful, too, wanting choices in my life.
it was not to be. i was not born pretty, or rich, or any of the things that would have given me everything i once thought i wanted, sometimes think, that i want.
i worked. to be better, to fit in more easily, to be in shape, to be desirable. to have a body worth coveting, to be a person worth loving, worth comparison.
i acheived some of it. i have a powerful, proportionate body - broad shoulders, strong legs and arms, a relatively flat stomach. i don't have the sharply chiseled facial features i was taught to want, but i catch myself in reflections sometime, and i see the intensity, the fire in my own eyes, burning back at me.
i know the passion and love i am capable of. i am one hell of a kisser. i know my mind, and the beauty and visions it holds. i know the strength that is in me.
but it is not all enough, and i am so often not true enough. i am still slave to what i have been taught to want, to expect, of beauty. yet, what do these beautiful want of me? they have lived aware of their own beauty, felt secure in its armour. they have been unquestioningly loved, or what they believe to be love, and do not know to want more, to want my love. the things they desire, or believe they desire, have often come easily - they do not see or appreciate the challenge i present.
they have known what they believe is their own worth, and cannot see what i have to add. they have had their choices: why choose me?
i am not worthy to complain. i am prey to the same flaws and weaknesses that defeat me. i speak of beauty and worth, but limit it just as those that do not see me limit their own sense of beauty and worth. and ultimately, between our mutual flaws, that is why i am here, alone.
Posted by Rob at October 29, 2004 01:33 AM