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"Still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise." |
| ((The Music)) The first time I heard this song, I was five years old in afternoon daycare, pretending to take a nap. My caretakers would run on the radio softly to drown out their voices while we slept. Most of us stayed awake because it felt weird sleeping at school. What I remember most is being fascinated by the fiddle solo and the slightly spooky quality of the song. I had no words to sing along with or any clue as to what band was playing. For years I would hear this song and the radio and hum along, hoping to one day find the name. It took me seven years. The original version by Patti Smith is pure female punk. Hard hit to the gut and awesome. The version I'm blabbering about though is a smooth cover by the 10,000 Maniacs during an unplugged concert. The song still gets to me. Pick a version, and listen. Seriously...go. ((The Life)) Have you ever had the feeling that the floor was about to fall out from underneath your feet? That the people in your life have a million things swirling around them, one of those things being you, and that they're systematically taking the firefly-like objects out of orbit and putting them in glass jars? Or is that just me? I've been fighting this eerie feeling that I'm slowly being placed in a glass jar, only to be taken out during those key moments when someone needs comfort. Oddly enough, this has happened before. And I imagine it will continue you happen as I am a small, firefly-like object (supposedly). For example, late last night my mom and I headed for the corner store to satisfy out chocolate cravings. Inside was a homeless man I'm friendly with (we'll call him Mel for this). Mel is a nice older man who now lives in the park. He tries his best to hang in there as he's been waiting for some time to get money from the gov't - vet benefits. He's a great guy and I am one of the objects floating around his universe. We chatted for a moment and I gave him the spare money I had on at the time, and he headed to the park with his nightly cup of soup. In simple, routine motions, I was picked up off the shelf in my little glass jar, smiled at, then put softly back in my place. I see this trend happening more and more. We all do it. Those touches of humanity that aren't always present, but still in the back of our minds when the time or need arises. I guess, while I don't mind being that for some, it bothers me that I am regulated to that with others. That I'm slowly being transitioned to a jar and a shelf. It's not like I have a right to complain, lol. I've done it too. It just bothers me that it's happening all at once with some people. Darnation, I'd like to ask what's happening, but you can't really do that while stuck in a jar. Go figure. lol I need to get a sharpie and a tiny pad of paper. I'll plaster the message from the inside. Problem solved.  Fixed it, Lone. Ha! |
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