Say a prayer for my soul señorita.

September 23, 2011 § Leave a comment


“I never felt right and I never fit in, walking in my own skin.” -Wherefore art thou, Elvis – The Gaslight Anthem.

When it comes down to it. When it ends. However it ends. I would like to think that I thought the good fight. That every word left my mouth with honesty and integrity. That every action was done for the ultimate benefit of someone other than myself. That every single punch I threw was just and not a drunken bar brawl or an unnecessary act of rebellion. That every fact I learnt helped me. Every journey was needed. Everything meant something more than just a silly boy being selfish of a tiny rock spinning mad through the sky of an area I couldn’t even get my head around. I’d like that to be me. I’d like that to be it. I think we both know it will. Maybe I will be safe in the knowledge that everyone makes mistakes. No ones perfect. Maybe that will be enough. I hope. Maybe I won’t care. Maybe I will be glad it’s over. Maybe excited about finally finding out whats next. Maybe the crushing overwhelming quilt and sadness at leaving a loved one to rattle around inside our old house. I hope she goes first. If I love her. I want her to pass first. I couldn’t do that to her. If she loved me like I love her. That’s how I would want to feel. But the truth is we have no idea what it’s going to feel like. A dear friend of mine once told me a thought she had that scared her almost more than anything. The logic, to me, was floored greatly. But that’s just my mind. She told me “I’m scared that there will be no afterlife, that this is it. This is all we get. Terrified.” I took a moment. “But, surely, if there is no afterlife then you would never know it. You would never be in a situation when that fear could be realised.”  “I know that.” She said, “but it still scares the hell out of me.” Fear is a strange old thing.

Someone emailed me the other day, she was a little drunk I think. But she asked what love is. I thought about it. Long and hard. Really hard. I thought back to every time I had felt that emotion. I came to the conclusion, for a small amount of time, that love is feeling an unbearable amount undescribeable of emotion for someone without the constant fear of loosing them forever. I stuck with this. I worked it into a nice sounding sentence. But then I realised that that didn’t work. It’s floored because you can love someone that’s gone. That could leave. I decided that was just my insecurity shining through. So what is love? Your going to have to give me a couple more days Sam. I will see what I can do after that.

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