It's been nine months...nine months since he left me, left us, left everything behind. It isn't helpful for me to speculate and to ask myself why. Though it happens. It happens when I lay wide awake in the darkness of my room and my mind starts to scream, WHY, WHY, WHY.
The Ghost of Rockschool - Belle and Sebastian
It happens when I slip in my meditation and think that I don't need it. But if I don't do it. If I don't stay focused on centering myself in the present and the now. The voices come back. The sadness comes back. The questions come back. I start asking myself if I let him down. What could I have done to have saved him from his darkness. It is very easy for me to put the face on and be the Lance that everybody expects me to be. I have grown used to it.
The Wrong Girl - Belle and Sebastian
But, there are times when I am not sure who or what the real Lance is. You would think that I could have figured that out by now. Perhaps I will one day. I am honestly not sure if I need too. Though it would be nice if I could find a way to use my tiresome existential angst to pay the bills. But then I suppose I would not fit the profile of a tortured artist. Am I am artist? I do not know.
Hand in Glove - The Smiths
Does having a blog make me an artist? Or am I thinking far to highly of myself. I suppose either is possible. Is it fear that stops me from fully embracing my writing? Maybe it is my laziness. I just do not know. That seems to me to be the constant in all of my writing. I do not know and it drives me nuts to not know. Why is that so important to me?
Atomic - Sleeper
There are plenty of people who do not know and they seem to be just fine. Or perhaps they do not feel the need to blurt everything out here on the computer screen so that everyone can read it. Again, I do not know. The only thing that I can say for sure is that I do not like taking pills to help myself sleep. I do not like how it makes me feel the day after.
Hotel Song - Regina Spektor
Once again though. The writing has helped me. The writing has gotten things out that were swirling around in my brain. In some way the writing has saved me. It always has. It always has when I allow myself to do it. When I give myself in to the thoughts that are flowing through me and I write them down without a filter. That is the time when it saves me. The words have to get out. Sometimes I can tell that is going on when I am giving someone a free lecture at the coffeehouse and I can see their eyes glazing over. I wonder is this more for me benefit or theirs. I suspect that it is for mine. But I would like to think that it is for them.
Satellite of Love - Lou Reed
I miss you Eric. I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing disc golf with you. I miss going to concerts. I miss watching soccer. I miss eating scotch eggs. I miss drinking with you. I miss arguing about movies. Sometimes I hate you for leaving me and making me feel this way. I remember watching you ride away in that VW Van with Casey and surprising myself with my tears. I remember how happy and excited I was when you came rolling back down the street.
Perfect Day - Lou Reed
I MISS YOU AND YOU ARE NEVER COMING BACK AND IT FUCKING SUCKS. It just fucking sucks. There is no other way for me to say it. There is no way to sugarcoat it.
Camera Obscura - Nico
The Ghost of Rockschool - Belle and Sebastian
It happens when I slip in my meditation and think that I don't need it. But if I don't do it. If I don't stay focused on centering myself in the present and the now. The voices come back. The sadness comes back. The questions come back. I start asking myself if I let him down. What could I have done to have saved him from his darkness. It is very easy for me to put the face on and be the Lance that everybody expects me to be. I have grown used to it.
The Wrong Girl - Belle and Sebastian
But, there are times when I am not sure who or what the real Lance is. You would think that I could have figured that out by now. Perhaps I will one day. I am honestly not sure if I need too. Though it would be nice if I could find a way to use my tiresome existential angst to pay the bills. But then I suppose I would not fit the profile of a tortured artist. Am I am artist? I do not know.
Hand in Glove - The Smiths
Does having a blog make me an artist? Or am I thinking far to highly of myself. I suppose either is possible. Is it fear that stops me from fully embracing my writing? Maybe it is my laziness. I just do not know. That seems to me to be the constant in all of my writing. I do not know and it drives me nuts to not know. Why is that so important to me?
Atomic - Sleeper
There are plenty of people who do not know and they seem to be just fine. Or perhaps they do not feel the need to blurt everything out here on the computer screen so that everyone can read it. Again, I do not know. The only thing that I can say for sure is that I do not like taking pills to help myself sleep. I do not like how it makes me feel the day after.
Hotel Song - Regina Spektor
Once again though. The writing has helped me. The writing has gotten things out that were swirling around in my brain. In some way the writing has saved me. It always has. It always has when I allow myself to do it. When I give myself in to the thoughts that are flowing through me and I write them down without a filter. That is the time when it saves me. The words have to get out. Sometimes I can tell that is going on when I am giving someone a free lecture at the coffeehouse and I can see their eyes glazing over. I wonder is this more for me benefit or theirs. I suspect that it is for mine. But I would like to think that it is for them.
Satellite of Love - Lou Reed
I miss you Eric. I miss hanging out with you. I miss playing disc golf with you. I miss going to concerts. I miss watching soccer. I miss eating scotch eggs. I miss drinking with you. I miss arguing about movies. Sometimes I hate you for leaving me and making me feel this way. I remember watching you ride away in that VW Van with Casey and surprising myself with my tears. I remember how happy and excited I was when you came rolling back down the street.
Perfect Day - Lou Reed
I MISS YOU AND YOU ARE NEVER COMING BACK AND IT FUCKING SUCKS. It just fucking sucks. There is no other way for me to say it. There is no way to sugarcoat it.
Camera Obscura - Nico
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