Monday, August 13, 2007

Open Your Eyes


All this feels strange and untrue
And I won't waste a minute without you
My bones ache, my skin feels cold
And I'm getting so tired and so old

The anger swells in my guts
And I won't feel these slices and cuts
I want so much to open your eyes
Cos I need you to look into mine

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

Get up, get out, get away from these liars
Cos they don't get your soul or your fire
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time

Every minute from this minute now
We can do what we like anywhere
I want so much to open your eyes
Cos I need you to look into mine

Tell me that you'll open your eyes

All this feels strange and untrue
And I won't waste a minute without you.
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It does feel strange and untrue. Numb, I'm moving through everyday life waiting for the equivalent of 20,000 tuns of emotional pressure to fall upon me. And the Gauls were worried about just the sky ...

And I've realised that I have enough of CGL boy rubbing off on me that I feel like a self sacrificial martyr for a whole 10 minutes after this happens. But then I stop, and I calm myself down, and realise that I have caused pain, as well as borne it. There is no reason to believe that I am the only one suffering. That'd be idiotic.

I don't have a clear, snappy one sentence 'why' as I used to. I used to be good at making that happen. Waiting until something crossed my self imposed lines, and then punishing it. But this is so different - in fact, beautifully so. It is, as some silly debater would say, a 'sophisticated' argument. That is, unlike a straight assertion of some fact or reasoning, it's an argument of balancing relative needs, and arriving at a compromise for dealing with them.

I'm doing this because I need to. No other reason. Why would there be?

I just need her to open her eyes. Just be aware. Have that long-awaited epiphany.

Love.