Tuesday, March 28, 2006
dark anniversary
One year ago today.
Yep, it's been a whole fucking year.
Today I took a big step. I took back Rush.
I know, I know, it sounds silly, dorkish, and goofy. It does to me also. But none the less, it was a big step in the whole grieving and healing thing.
Rush was your band, Rush was my band, Rush was our band. As I said yes, silly, dorkish and outright goofy. But we were suburban teenage whiteboys growing up in the 1980's crawling 'cross the fringes of the city. We had to love them. It was like a mandate or something, to be cool or be cast out. Their music has always been inexorably intertwined with you, in both experience and memory.
Since all was said and done, after you were properly memorialized with mezcal, and with great ambivalence I sadly accepted my curse, I have not listened to their music. I put away the CD's and deleted the playlists.
I just wasn't ready.
Too many hands on my time
Too many feelings --
Too many things on my mind
But like I said, it's been a year. It's time I got over it. Yeah, your still just as fucking dead you idiot, my brother, my friend, but I'm still very much alive.
So today, on this dark anniversary, I reloaded Rush on the ipod and hit the gym after school. I put it on shuffle and pushed, pulled, stepped, ran, and pedaled while borderline blasting out my ears. When I felt the tears begin to swell I squelched them and pushed myself a little harder until beads of sweat fell down my face in their place. When I felt the anger I just went faster.
It was oddly soul cleansing and fucking cathartic.
And probably long overdue.
I can honestly say that there has not been one single day out of the past year when I have not at least momentarily thought of you.
And you.
It does not matter who came first, either in deed or memory. Somedays it's one, some the other. A lyric, a verse, a scene, a clip, a place, a time, a moment, a memory. . . It doesn't matter the cause. Something happens, and poof. . . there you or you are.
The other inevitably follows. You are both eternally linked together in my mind by your ultimate act of foolish self-centered vanity.
But that's putting it nicely. You were both fucking idiots who shot yourselves in the head.
So my dearly departed ones, one year later, any regrets? Have you found what you lacked? Have you found what you're looking for?
I hope so.
You are both fondly remembered, greatly loved, and terribly missed.
As for me. . .
. . . well, I guess you can say I'm one step closer to knowing.
|
Yep, it's been a whole fucking year.
Today I took a big step. I took back Rush.
I know, I know, it sounds silly, dorkish, and goofy. It does to me also. But none the less, it was a big step in the whole grieving and healing thing.
Rush was your band, Rush was my band, Rush was our band. As I said yes, silly, dorkish and outright goofy. But we were suburban teenage whiteboys growing up in the 1980's crawling 'cross the fringes of the city. We had to love them. It was like a mandate or something, to be cool or be cast out. Their music has always been inexorably intertwined with you, in both experience and memory.
Since all was said and done, after you were properly memorialized with mezcal, and with great ambivalence I sadly accepted my curse, I have not listened to their music. I put away the CD's and deleted the playlists.
I just wasn't ready.
Too many hands on my time
Too many feelings --
Too many things on my mind
But like I said, it's been a year. It's time I got over it. Yeah, your still just as fucking dead you idiot, my brother, my friend, but I'm still very much alive.
So today, on this dark anniversary, I reloaded Rush on the ipod and hit the gym after school. I put it on shuffle and pushed, pulled, stepped, ran, and pedaled while borderline blasting out my ears. When I felt the tears begin to swell I squelched them and pushed myself a little harder until beads of sweat fell down my face in their place. When I felt the anger I just went faster.
It was oddly soul cleansing and fucking cathartic.
And probably long overdue.
I can honestly say that there has not been one single day out of the past year when I have not at least momentarily thought of you.
And you.
It does not matter who came first, either in deed or memory. Somedays it's one, some the other. A lyric, a verse, a scene, a clip, a place, a time, a moment, a memory. . . It doesn't matter the cause. Something happens, and poof. . . there you or you are.
The other inevitably follows. You are both eternally linked together in my mind by your ultimate act of foolish self-centered vanity.
But that's putting it nicely. You were both fucking idiots who shot yourselves in the head.
So my dearly departed ones, one year later, any regrets? Have you found what you lacked? Have you found what you're looking for?
I hope so.
You are both fondly remembered, greatly loved, and terribly missed.
As for me. . .
. . . well, I guess you can say I'm one step closer to knowing.
|
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