Lacuna Moon

Well she’s kind of like an artist
Sittin’ on the floor
Never finishes, she abandons
Never shows a soul

And she’s kind of like a movie
Everyone rushes to see
And no one understands it
Sittin’ in their seats

She opens her mouth to speak and
What comes out’s a mystery
Thought about, not understood
She’s achin’ to be

Well she dances alone in nightclubs
Every other day of the week
People look right through her
Baby doll, check your cheek

And she’s kind of like a poet
Who finds it hard to speak
Poems come so slowly
Like the colors down a sheet

She opens her mouth to speak and
What comes out’s a mystery
Thought about, not understood
She’s achin’ to be

I’ve been achin’ for a while now, friend
I’ve been achin’ hard for years
Well she’s kind of like an artist
Who uses paints no more
You never show me what you’re doing
Never show a soul

Well, I saw one of your pictures
There was nothin’ that I could see
If no one’s on your canvas
Well, I’m achin’ to be

She closes her mouth to speak and
Closes her eyes to see
Thought about an’ only loved
She’s achin’ to be
Just like me

Paul Westerberg, Achin’ to Be, The Replacements

I now know some of what has been bothering me so the past month, give or take.

It’s the same type of inadequate feelings as I experienced as a teenager. Awkward and unable to fit in, perhaps a bit unwilling to fit in — at least on other’s terms. I’ve been reliving a past based on memories.

For some people, the past is filled with fond memories, but my own has been one of achin’ to be.

Geek, nerd, outcast, untouchable.

When I finally was able to move beyond those adjectives, I made up for it in spades and I considered payback my god-given right, doing onto others as had been done onto me, whether or not it was deserved. So, an asshole erupted and I still live with those memories of being a jerk. Unfortunately, I’m sure many other people do as well.

The problem is that I am less and less either person. But both people stalk me like an unwanted lover hiding in the brush just outside the door.

As much as I try to leave those people behind (my two selves), I am still haunted by both.

And so I get down. Both extremes: too uncool and too cool….

I wave and receive scorn in return. It bothers me, mostly because I’ve tried to leave it all behind. I’m tempted to fall into one or the other.

But I want neither.