I find myself in a state of suspension - a kind of limbo if you will. Try as I might I can't seem to make sense of most things around me. I have long suspected that most people belong to a club with certain rules that I have not been privvy too. This is becoming apparent to me daily, and yet I don't feel excluded, more relieved that I was not invited, as I simply can't live within the confinements of subversive behaviour and codes of (mis)conduct.
The only way I can explain my feelings of displacement is to use the word 'weldschmertz' - a beautiful word in German that describes the grief for the world that grips your heart. I have often experienced it, but this time it doesn't want to leave me at all. Am I obsessed with suffering? I don't know, maybe, but I do know that I am nonplussed at general human behaviour, mine included. Daily one hears, reads, sees the results of people's 'love' for each other. Calling it a 'crime of passion' sounds quite exotic and exiting, it isn't. Its more often than not horrendous, leading to damage and executed with chilling precision. Whether physical or mental cruelty, its all the same to me and I wish only not to be involved with it.
I refuse to live in a state of suspicion and distrust, I have been blessed with really wonderful people in my life, so I don't walk around suspecting all attention as cunningly disguised foul play.
When I was 13 and stuck in a dreadfull hostel - far away from my country and parents, I used to lie on my unsympathetic hostel issue, torture device that was called a bed, my earphones plugged into my illegal radio and listened to music. Between praying to God to release me from this hell and listening to my beloved radio, I managed to survive. God did release me, and music ( and books and words) are still my answer to everything that ails me. I will never forget the hormonal teenage-angst I went through when 'Nazareth' released their gravelly, wailing and pulsing rock song 'Love Hurts' I was delirious with pain and suffering and cried bitterly into my pillow and promised myself that one day a guitar slinging rocker on a huge bike will stop in front of this ghastly place and pull me onto his machine.
Hair streaming in the wind I would hold on tight as we sped away to a crazy soundtrack yeah!! Remember 'Born to be wild'? aah that was me! Of course I would be the drummer, I played drums at school and I still do and I still think I rock!! Yes, it still is stunning to sing in front of the mirror and play air guitar or hit the tables in my artroom to rythms only I can hear....
So, here I am, still going through pain, still crying in the pillow, still blasting the house with music, and all I know is that I will never give up on the basic goodness that I believe is inherent in people. That once I love you I can't stop and I don't want to. A heart full of pain carries a burden of anger, and I don't want that, - it makes me look older and I run the risk of becoming bitter. I might stop caring then, and that would be the end for me.
In the words of the great godess, Aretha Franklin and the uber-sexy and talented George Benson- I give you the best advice I can (that is, if you needed some!) LOVE ALL THE HURT AWAY!!!
The same God that released me from that hostel-jail, has given us the Gift of Love - He didn't say how and when it will come, but relish in it I will. (Is it coincidence that I now live in a Hostel? Don't think so!!)
So the heart is gripped and squeezed and the music plays on, and just when you think you can't stand it anymore a stranger comes along, and says Hi there! and there I go, holding on for dear life again.... stand by the paramedics, but ride I will!!
Spread the love*****
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