Undone

So I randomly download songs. I dont know the artist, I don’t know the style, and i don’t know anything but a few key words.

and sometimes i stumble onto crap. Complete and utter crap. and other times, it’s gems. Something that makes me understand myself a little better, and removes a layer of protective skin…. Teaches me about myself. Sometimes people in the songs, say it in a different way, but it feels the same.

Different words, same meaning. Like someone who didn’t finish school, and can’t remember what they did go to thanks to the drugs…. saying how hurt they are from betrayal, compared to an English Major (Linguistics Minor) from Harvard, or Bradley saying the same thing, only different words.

Describing the same pain, feeling the same frustration for the lack of vocabulary– because no matter how extensive your vocabulary, there are always some words that just extend beyond the reach of human pain. The words seem trite and over used. Nothing to describe the anger that seems to fill you until it pours out your eyes, and there’s no way to hold it back– and you just want to be held, to make it go away–

but there’s no one there, to make it better. And no one tries to. It’s not because they don’t love you, it’s because they don’t know just as much as you don’t. That’s why the pain doesn’t go away…. Not until you accept it for what it is.

I was talking to friend of mine (who needs a nickname…), and he asked me “Why do you do that? Why do you see me as good, when I feel so bad?” and I told him, possibly the most profound thing i’ve ever said….

“People weren’t meant to see the good in themselves, but in each other. It keeps us happy, and it keeps us humble.”

I’m spewing off smart things. Ya know when it’s good to be happy? How it’s a good thing and not fake or anything? When you can still do things without being angry. I don’t know how to explain it in general, but i can do it in specifics to me.

When I write, I normally have to be in an angsty ‘i-just-got-dumped-and-i-couldn’t-feel-worse’ kind of place. I have to not be happy. Call it an Angel complex, because as soon as i get happy… my writing goes evil. It’s sappy, and romantic. And it sucks. A lot. So– you know when something is a good kind of happy, or at least i know i do, when i can still write, any way i want. Sappy happy stuff, or angsty stuff… without a problem. It’s great. I love it. 🙂

Derringer Meryl [Compiling a list of Resolutions to share] Out