Wishing Well.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Wed, 07 May 2008 12:09:10 -0500

I wasn't fooling ya.

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It's a Sananda Day.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Wed, 07 May 2008 11:17:37 -0500

One of my favorites of his.

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Is that real, or bull@#$t?

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 10:23:49 -0500

Sananda Maitreya, formerly known as Terence Trent D'Arby, included a lyric in his song Vibrator (stoppit) that has always rested quietly in the back of my mind:

"But beware of the reflections that sorrows bring."

Now I could spend my time talking about how regrettable the formerly known as turn is regarding an artist's career. I could snicker about the title Vibrator to amuse my inner teenager. And I probably have, in previous posts that I don't feel like sifting through. But I'm gonna stay with the main point.

Ever notice how dark your thoughts of yourself, your circumstances and recent (or not so recent events) become when you are in a foul mood? Ever notice how you can recall the most rage inspiring details of things, and you'll fuel that annoyance with your own interpretation of intent or deeper meaning? Next thing you know...you've built a master theory of why things have happened and people become monsters out to destroy your every attempt at happiness?

Then you're ready to donkey kick the next person that looks at you funny? (Oh wait, is that just me?)

Beware those reflections and master theories you develop when you're in a funk. Add a disclaimer to whatever you're about to cry/wail/shriek about. If you can, write it instead of speaking it. Note your mood and acknowledge that moods can make things very murky...then ask yourself.

"Is that a true statement about what's going on, or is that some bullshit I'm currently embracing because I am already in a foul mood and want as much fodder to chew on while I'm in this state?"

Mood induced statement or analysis is rarely accurate. Add the addendum to whatever "the world is out to destroy me" content you may scribble, so that when the funk is gone, you don't hold onto that bullshit you tried to sell yourself.

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Love and Music.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Sat, 18 Nov 2006 12:56:35 -0600

It seems like every other song to hit the airwaves (or internet radio) is about love. There is something to cover every cycle, falling into it, crawling out of it, being afraid of it and wanting more of it. If you’re trying to avoid dwelling on it, best put on ESPN.

As I was cleaning my house this morning, I started thinking about the songs that hold lyrics that speak to my interpretation of the varying types of relationships we find ourselves in and out of.

Love in Recovery.
You know you have no business doing it, considering the canvas of your mind and all it’s processing. Still, you must, because the only other alternative is being alone. It helps to chase away those demons that come creeping in your window at about 11:59pm, to torment you with memories of someone else. It’s love...almost.

It’s comfortable. Reliable. Consistent. Peaceful. You wrestle with sabotaging it, because you don’t want the other party to believe they’re getting all of you when you know otherwise. It’s the kind of love that you ultimately feel sorry for, because you’re the only one who knows that occasionally your heart scampers away to look through of photographs of a former love long lost. It’s the love you wished you found before your heartache, because in another time or another place – they might’ve known a completely different you. This love is a smile offered with a tinge of sadness.

Continuum

No I'm not the man I used to be lately,
See you met me at an interesting time.
And if my past is any sign of your future,
You should be warned before I let you inside.

Hold on to whatever you find baby
Hold on to whatever will get you through
Hold on to whatever you find baby
I don't trust myself with lovin you.

I Don’t Trust Myself (Lovin You) – John Mayer, Continuum

Love on Life Support.
You know you’ve stayed well beyond the expiration date. It’s the love that feels more like respectful loathing. One in which the arguments have died, along with any remnants of passion and the silence is deafening. One shoe has dropped, the other one hangs over your heads from a fraying shoestring.

Each party is waiting for the other one to do it. The only tension left is the anticipation of freedom, the fear of what happens after this person who has taken up so much space in your life, finally agrees to take the step you won’t. You pick fights to aggravate the outcome, and the only lingering glances are ones ripe with resentment. But you go through the motion of love mechanically because it’s what you’re used to. Tomorrow, you tell yourself – you will walk away.

Luck of the Draw

I’ll close my eyes, then I wont see

The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me
Morning will come and Ill do what’s right
Just give me till then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight

Cause I cant make you love me if you don’t
You cant make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark, in these lonely hours
I will lay down my heart and Ill feel the power
But you wont, no you wont
cause I cant make you love me, if you don’t

I Can’t Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt, Luck of the Draw

Eyes Shut, Heart Open Love
This is the love that grabs you by the throat and yanks you from the middle of your regularly scheduled programming. It turns you upside down, comes when you aren’t looking and promises to leave you forever altered.

It can be good, it can be bad – but either way you are sure you’ll never forget it. The conversations are magic, the sex is unspeakable and it feels as if that person has taken the place of oxygen. You fall so deeply for each other you become each other, and you’re convinced that no one on earth could possibly have what you’ve found in each other. Only time will tell you how long that lasts. And time, speeds by.

TTD's Vibrator

Heaven is only half the distance
Between your soul and mine
Blood is thicker than water yes
But love is thicker than blood
You bring me provisions of perfect peace
Your sugar stained tongue is sweet
So Heaven is only half the distance
Between your soul and mine

Because of your sighs the hours fly
As though they're filled with air
Yet here we are ascending the stars as lovers dare
The rising sun is ending our fun
We'll leave to future promise what's left undone
'Cause we don't have that much time together
'Cause we don't have that much time together

We Don’t Have That Much Time Together – Sananda Maitreya (formerly Terence Trent D’Arby), Vibrator

I Figured It Out Love
This is love you find when you’ve finally figured out everything love isn’t. This love comes when you’re out of recovery, free of panic and the haunting of past woes. It appears when you’ve finally determined that you truly have no idea what you’re doing, and that’s alright. There’s no obsession. No worry required because you know the only love you truly require, is the love you’ve learned to have for yourself.

This love is familiar. It’s honest, brutally. It has a great sense of humor, and sees you for all your vibrance, and your flaws. This is the, “come talk to me while I’m in the bathroom” love. It’s also the “I can’t believe you just kissed me on my mouth with that breath” love. This love is best friendship, exemplified. This love is more than love, its partnership – and it’s wise enough to know when to stop searching for more.

Songs in the Key of Life

Just as time knew to move on since the beginning
And the seasons know exactly when to change
Just as kindness knows no shame
Know through all your joy and pain
That I’ll be loving you always

As today I know I’m living but tomorrow
Could make me the past but that I mustn’t fear
For I’ll know deep in my mind
The love of me I’ve left behind
Cause Ill be loving you always

Until the day is night and night becomes the day - Always
Until the trees and sea just up and fly away - Always
Until the day that 8x8x8 is 4 - Always
Until the day that is the day that are no more
Did you know you’re loved by somebody?

As – Stevie Wonder, Songs in The Key of Life

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Blissfully Naked.

Wishing Well.

It's a Sananda Day.

Is that real, or bull@#$t?

Love and Music.