Well she’s kind of like an artist
Sittin’ on the floor
Never finishes, she abandons
Never shows a soulAnd she’s kind of like a movie
Everyone rushes to see
And no one understands it
Sittin’ in their seatsShe opens her mouth to speak and
What comes out’s a mystery
Thought about, not understood
She’s achin’ to beWell she dances alone in nightclubs
Every other day of the week
People look right through her
Baby doll, check your cheekAnd she’s kind of like a poet
Who finds it hard to speak
Poems come so slowly
Like the colors down a sheetShe opens her mouth to speak and
What comes out’s a mystery
Thought about, not understood
She’s achin’ to beI’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 soulWell, 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 beShe closes her mouth to speak and
Closes her eyes to see
Thought about an’ only loved
She’s achin’ to be
Just like mePaul 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.
4 Comments
Your post sure rings a bell with me.
I took one positive thing away from my reunion last week: a bit of healing in the thought that we were all just kids muddling through. People slapped me with labels too (some that I didn’t even know about at the time). But, in looking back through the yearbooks, I only see pages and pages of young faces that had little idea of what was important. I’ve heard a couple of old classmates that I didn’t know well back then get confessional about the old days. They too had their dramas and insecurities. I had thought - somehow, perhaps selfishly - that I was the only one. We were all in one big swirling pot of teenage confusion. Some of us took out our frustration out on others.
Like someone said on my LJ: Now is greater than all of the past.
It helps me to remember that cool and uncool are subjective to each individual. For every person who thinks you are, there will be at least one more who thinks you aren’t. You have a choice as to who you keep company with.
And maybe we will more easily “find our true selves” by not looking for them. They’re not some rock along the trail. They’re not even the search. They are the walking.
If you’re walking, you already are.
Even realizing this, sometimes I look at my feet too much anyway.
Good points.
I was seduced into thinking too much about the distant past this past while.
Gonna take up walking again.
I know exactly what you mean.
Hallo K8! Long time. It’s good to have you back.
For the record, I know what YOU mean as well (read all about it via feeds).
Miss ya. If you wanna vent, you know where to find me.
:: wink and a flirty glance, as if it means anything. gawd knows you see/hear enough ::