Brand New Key

So I was in the middle of this brilliant blog post

And my computer decides, "Oh hey, I don't like this page anymore"

And it left.

I'll in no way to replicate what was going on in the previous post.

I'll start fresh.

Today was this sort of massive disappointment that you simply know will hang over you for the rest of the week.

One of those rain-cloud-over-your-head type of days.

And I currently can't think of that lighthouse-in-the-storm moment that people cling to in desperation in the movies and stuff.

People never just give up in the movies, or the books.

There's always one thing everybody lives for.

It may be drugs or murder, sure,

But it's something to live for, something to cling to.

In the real-life,

Sometimes people do indeed just give up.

On life.

On themselves.

On everything,

Like the whole wide world has just collapsed on them,

And everyone's beating them with shoes.

And honestly,

Those people that give up are both the smartest and stupidest people in the world.

It depends on why you give up, I guess.

If you give up because you just need to be free, just have to do something else with your life,

Have to just give The Establishment the finger and get on with your life.

Those are all some pretty good reasons to just give up.

On the world, etc.

But those who are simply too downtrodden,

Why can't the world just give them something that makes them want to live?

Instills some sense of hope, however faint, that makes them grasp the edge of life that they were once so ready to throw themselves over.

Those people need heroes.

And not the ones in tights.

Heroes like star-laden nights and lovely flowers in vases,

Open windows and little zephyrs,

And smiles and laughter.

And I realize this is sappy (A different kind, though)

And I know, things like that don't save people in real life.

People are saved by Welfare and money and drugs.

And it's a shame.

But beauty and salvation are different for everybody, I'd suppose.

I was going to say some thing about Transcendentalism,

But I've gotten a bit off course, have I not?

So...

Transcendentalism.

The beautifully narcissistic philosophy that everything is about oneself.

That the individual human overrules the higher powers of heaven

And believes in being a nonconformist, self-reliant, and possibly egotistical human being.

Individualistic.

And I'd like to put a slightly optimistic spin on this somewhat strange idea.

If we don't love ourselves, and don't love who we are,

Or what we stand for,

If we spend our lives pleasing other,s getting stepped on, and degraded,

Then what are we living for?

You'll always have one companion in your life,

And that would happen to be yourself.

So why not embrace that?

And I don't mean having high tea with yourself and ignoring the rest of mankind, treating them like plebeians,

I mean having self-confidence and self-reliance and a feeling of self-worth,

Feeling happy with who you are, and who other people are, and what everything is.

There's a very high amount of respect that absolutely must be poured in to such a philosophy.

But some part of me admires this idea.

Transcendentalism.

And hey, Thoreu and Emerson are pretty rad guys, am I right?

I'd love to say something stupid and selfish right here,

But I think I might leave you on a high note.

Or a poem.

I'll leave you with another one of those,

Because I feel like I should

(Even though I should not)

So I'll leave you with this poem

And I'll go and listen to more Joan Baez.

I apologize if the stanza breaks don't come through,that happens sometimes, sadly.

Another about the sea, of course.

Adieu, my lovelies.

To hurl oneself,

Like a rock to the surf,

Is to be free.

And to throw yourself into waves

Is to be in love.

Fall into the waiting arms,

White-capped waves,

And siren songs,

And it's true,

Father Sky.

Mother Earth.

Lover Sea.

Because what can one so fickle be,

But the changing tides of a lover's embrace?

And I hurl myself into the currents.

Dragged under,

Into depths

Below the waves.

Where somehow,

Sea is calm.

And siren songs fade into

Sweet nothing-lullabies.

Tears mix into sea salt.

What is the ocean

But this escape

And this longing.

A lust to be free,

Hurled into the dark and chilled depths?

Body, the rock,

-Weight-

That holds one to this place,

As it sinks so gracefully,

Lullingly, into sea's embrace.

Arms that ebb and flow

To rock you like it

Rocks the sailing ships.

And to fling oneself,

Hurtling through air

Into sea,

Body the rock -anchor-

Is to be free.

Settled in siren songs

And the sea's strong, tidal embrace.