“Between what matters and what seems to matter, how should the world we know judge wisely?” - E. C. Bentley
While I was waiting outside the hospital last May, there was this man in his mid 60s who sat beside me who I didn’t even notice being there. I didn’t even lift my eyes to look at him from the newspaper I was reading. As I was turning the pages, he asked me something which I hardly heard. So I looked at him with questioning eyes and then that’s when he started talking. I don’t know, maybe he asked if he could have a little of amount of my time to talk or if he could borrow the newspaper… I didn’t hear. But when he started talking about his life, I started listening intently. Even when I barely say anything, he goes on as if he has rehearsed the lines over and over again in his mind, as if it’s what he has been longing to say for a very long time, as if it was meant for me to hear all along.
And then he talks about pain…and I don’t know how to react. I don’t know how to comfort him. The way he describes the feeling of being left behind by your wife when you had lost all material possessions, the feeling of being completely mystified by the people you used to know so well, the feeling of not being able to fight for what you desire because everyone tells you that you deserve nothing else but your fucked up life - that’s when I knew, what I know about pain is nothing compared to that. The worst thing that could happen to me is when people I love start dreading me for who I am and then I’d start to feel worthless.
So I couldn’t tell the man that I understand what he what he’s going through, nor could I tell him that it was okay. By the looks of it, he just wants me to be there to listen, to have someone to pour his sentiments on and to just get it off his chest without being mistaken for being crazy when anyone sees his talking to himself - so he resorted to get down to brass tacks with me instead. It is evident that what he needs is not someone who sympathisizes, he just needs someone like me to feel good about my what-I-call-a-miserable-life.
Then he left saying thank you even when I didn’t sy much during the almost-forever conversation. Dialogue. Monologue. I felt like I had been a prop that was used to make everything look natural. Real. Sensible. Sane. And yet I was happy - because I felt that even strangers don’t think that I could say anything bad and that I could be trusted. Even if it is also possible that they don’t give a damn about what you think of them.
And just now, the urge of wanting to have one moment to sit beside a normal stranger has become vehement. Just an hour with a total stranger - who has not a bit of knowlege of who you are. Just an hour to help me, free me and save me from these fatal emotions. A hero whose opinion of you won’t matter, whose ears were fated to just listen to what you say and whose life is unaffected by you and uninvolved in yours.
I need to say what bothers me and walk away. Expect to never see that person again and all your secrets will be with that one person you chose to be part of your life for a brief moment - unless the twisted fate catches up on you. I just need…a stranger I can thank for.
I’ve been having trouble expressing my feelings lately and if you know me, you could conclude that this isn’t a natural phonemenon. My idiosyncratic attitude has become inverted - the stimuli in me must have subjected itself to cryotherapy and maybe I know why.
No, it’s just a false presumption. Truth is, I am clueless. That’s the reason why I don’t think that assuming there is something wrong with me could be anything serious. Ergo, I have nothing to be worried about. But, why do I talk about it? Why do I even think about it? Why does everything feel so deviating?
You turn stiff when you’re supposed to cry, you zip your mouth when you’re expected to say something, you go away when everyone asks you stay, you walk leisurely when you’re supposed to run in a hurry, you mess things up when you’re almost done fixing everything…
And why do you still think that you’re okay when you are not?
Scratching the wound and spitting the pill can’t cure you. And not learning how to swallow it, would definitely choke you to death.
Is this how you go on with life? Is this how you show your gratefulness for being alive?
One of my greatly adored gods in the music industry is back! And even if they don’t sound a bit like Emo - I am turning into a sentimental geek once again. Besides New Radicals and Weezer, the news of Smashing Pumpkins’ disbandment saddened me the most. That is why nothing could make me happier than this… at least, for now
“Leaving guitarist James Iha and bassist D’arcy Wretzky behind, Corgan and drummer Jimmy Chamberlin are the only holdovers, a creative core that continued to work together on other projects, including Zwan and the Jimmy Chamberlin Complex, after the Pumpkins disbanded amid personal tensions in 2000. But a different dynamic clearly kicks in when the Pumpkins are revived, and while the new album, “Zeitgeist” — which they recorded together before hiring guitarist Jeff Schroeder, bassist Ginger Reyes and keyboardist Lisa Harriton as their new bandmates — may not feature their most eloquent songwriting, its metal-edged rock power links it to the Pumpkins’ past while turning the music in a new direction.” - Los Angeles Times
So as soon as I heard the news from Sherwin that they have released a new album after seven years of hoping for its birth - I downloaded the whole stuff out of my swelling excitement. Sorry! I am not going to reproduce it, promise. For sure, I am going to get myself a fresh album as soon as it gets here. As tacky as it is, listening to Billy Corgan makes me sick with nostalgia. I used to listen to them on cassette tapes my brothers bought and I remember I was the one who lost their precious Mellon Collie album when I was in 6th grade because showing off my walkman around seemed pretty cool that I never noticed that the tape had already fallen off.
What I feel now is probably the same as having missed someone so much who you thought would never see again - and you are holding on to a moment you wish would stay forever. Only a fool would think it’s a dumb cliche.
To those who have always loved Smashing Pumpkins, *cheers*! And here’s my new favorite.;)
Neverlost - Smashing Pumpkins (Zeitgeist)
All hands on deck
Setting sail to get wrecked off course
You make what you want of me
I will keep you anyway
Let’s fill these hours and kill desire
Let’s fill these hours and kill desire
I’m in touch with you
Let’s kill these hours and fill desire
Every turn is torture thought
Every kicking of the drum
I’ve seen the film
I know the place
I’m never lost
There’s just one way across
I’m never lost
Headlights shoot north
To the ends of earth off course
Of course
If you think just right
If you’ll love you’ll find
Certain truths left behind
All this is that once forgot
A closing down of the gates
But oh these hours
I lost my place
I’m never lost
There’s just one way
There’s no disgrace in failing me
Let’s kill these hours and fill desire
I’m in touch with you
Let’s kill these hours and fill desire
I’m in touch with you
I’m in touch with you
