My heart is racing. My mind in chaos. How is it possible to be affected so deeply by a song?
But I am. I am so affected by it. It aches sometimes and I feel like crying. I’m a very romantic person, very emotional. I swallow everything. I consume it until it overwhelms me like a drug addict I suppose. I get overly excited and feel like screaming. When something touches me, it knocks me down. I love it with a passion. I breathe it with an anxiety that cuts my guts open. It’s emotional porn. Agitating the thread inside me until it’s knotted up. I’m torn and in love and everything in between. It just takes me over. It rapes me, killing me with pleasure.
I can’t explain how excited I can become sometimes. It’s an overwhelming enthusiasm that could very well be madness. I am mad I suppose. Mad in the worse way. Saying things, I shouldn’t, opening my soul up for all to see. It isn’t like me. I sing, I dance, I act out, by myself in my room for only me. I write for only me. My dreams to myself. What’s happening to me now?
I never had this. I never existed but to cook, clean, do laundry, work like a drone, and work some more. Pulled here, pulled there… go here, go there, do this, do that. I was just that but not myself. Peeled that away and stored it. Finding myself a stranger thing –a more interesting thing, a thing of wonder. Here I am. Am I right in this? Do I have a right to be me? I would normally say… no. That would be wrong and selfish of me. Self-deprecating? Maybe… yes.
It’s extraordinary to me that I could be so self-critical like that. I’m not depressed or anything. So why do I do it? I’m quoting the amazing Jac Forsyth from the comments of Day 8, “…Man, humans are complex creatures. We live in a constant state of paradox, we think we’re looking for approval, but we’re really seeking out rejection.” Am I seeking out rejection? Have I been doing that all this time? The thing is I never really thought about being rejected until I started to exist. Exist here, in this wonderful place. A virtual place that is more real to me than anything I’ve ever had in my life, that is only about me. I exist only for me here. It’s selfish, it’s lonely sometimes, because although I have support and love, there is also misunderstanding. I’m likely misunderstood by those that love me so. Perhaps that’s why I might be seeking out rejection as Jac says. If receive enough rejection, maybe… maybe I’ll go back where I belong. Where it’s safe. Back to the mundanity of a life that had no direction until now.
NO! I don’t want to. I don’t want to.
Music. It is the thing that keeps me away from that mundanity, that surreal that bumps you out. I’ve swallowed the red pill and I’m here to stay.
Now… this magical place where the lifelines from elsewhere converge, has brought me a unique gift in a friendship that I was not aware could be possible. I can’t really say when I met her but when I visited her blog, I dissected it. It was cheerful and light-hearted but then as I continued to investigate, she punched me in the guts. She pulled out my insides and made me ache with surprise. Yes… she has balls of steel. I’ve read them in action. Maria, Super Wife and Mummy, (which most of you already know) is an extraordinary poet but were you aware that she is also an amazing singer? She messed me up the first time I heard her. I wanted so much to share the privilege she gave me with everyone. And what can I say? I managed to get her to do it. (It wasn’t hard. She’s got a big head too.)(Insert winky face here.)
I won’t say much more except to thank her for giving me permission to use this humble blog to thrust her into the belly of fame. Because she is amazing. And my ears have been buttered up, and are so in love with her voice. It’s in Greek and it’s incredible. It is Maria’s voice not mine. I can’t do this. But she slays! She slays with a delicious voice that saves me.
English song title and lyrics
“It’s your Fault”
There goes tonight…
Tomorrow I’m leaving
and with the first airplane
I’m going away,
So as not love you
It’s your fault that you brought me here.
It’s your fault that you taught me how to live
There goes that
and now I
will dream that with an empty airplane
I’m going away
I’m flying away
So as not love you.