Don’t let me fade away
I have a horror of being in the same place for too long, listening to the same sounds, watching the same visions, dreaming the same dreams. In my worst nightmare I am presented with an award for 25 years endurance. Inside the box is a barometer that always reads ‘Fair’ and never says ‘Change’, and a chiming clock that stands on the mantelpiece and always seems to take too long to go from tick to tock. When it eventually stops, so do I; I have been sentenced to long drawn-out oblivion as my reward for surviving for so long. I cannot do this thing a minute longer, let someone else get the congratulatory telegram from the Palace on their centenary day.
I always get this horror when I spend an evening playing old records from the past. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself, I am not by nature masochistic, and I should by now be aware of what’s in store for me when I start rummaging through the bottom of the CD towers, but yet again I am standing on the brink of the promised land with my eyes turned the wrong way, fixed on the trail that got me here. Part of me knows I should go forwards and enter this unknown country, and another part of me is fearful, knowing for certain that this is going to be the end of me. It wants to show me what I am going to throw away if I gamble on the future.
It is part of being a human being to be torn by contradictions. I love the memories of the past, the warm glow that nostalgia seems to bring out in me, the pleasurable sense of old feelings rising gently from deep within to come into the light once more. And yet I have an immense chasm within myself that demands to be filled with something new, something I haven’t felt before, something fresh and excitingly unknown. I need to be tried and tested in the fire, I have a death-wish that wants to risk everything for a dream.
I feel like a badger by the roadside, safe in the darkness on a well-known bank that twinkles with glow-worms and glitters with fireflies, looking out through the gloom and wondering what is out there. And then the sun comes up unexpectedly, and I can see, in the distance, a different bank. It looks so new and fresh and ready for me, and despite my inner self saying ‘No, don’t go there, you like it here with all your friendly feelings’, I am compelled to rush out into the light and scuttle to the other side. Will I get there and find my future, or will I be utterly crushed? Should I rush at full speed to catch the golden vision, or should I trot cautiously, suspecting the worst will yet again be waiting there to greet me?
I always get this horror when I spend an evening playing old records from the past. I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself, I am not by nature masochistic, and I should by now be aware of what’s in store for me when I start rummaging through the bottom of the CD towers, but yet again I am standing on the brink of the promised land with my eyes turned the wrong way, fixed on the trail that got me here. Part of me knows I should go forwards and enter this unknown country, and another part of me is fearful, knowing for certain that this is going to be the end of me. It wants to show me what I am going to throw away if I gamble on the future.
It is part of being a human being to be torn by contradictions. I love the memories of the past, the warm glow that nostalgia seems to bring out in me, the pleasurable sense of old feelings rising gently from deep within to come into the light once more. And yet I have an immense chasm within myself that demands to be filled with something new, something I haven’t felt before, something fresh and excitingly unknown. I need to be tried and tested in the fire, I have a death-wish that wants to risk everything for a dream.
I feel like a badger by the roadside, safe in the darkness on a well-known bank that twinkles with glow-worms and glitters with fireflies, looking out through the gloom and wondering what is out there. And then the sun comes up unexpectedly, and I can see, in the distance, a different bank. It looks so new and fresh and ready for me, and despite my inner self saying ‘No, don’t go there, you like it here with all your friendly feelings’, I am compelled to rush out into the light and scuttle to the other side. Will I get there and find my future, or will I be utterly crushed? Should I rush at full speed to catch the golden vision, or should I trot cautiously, suspecting the worst will yet again be waiting there to greet me?
posted by Sopwith-Camel | 9:32 am
2 Comments:
Unfortunately I can't give you any advice what to do. I am in the same situation myself :)
That's OK, we'll at least keep each other entertained.
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