Someone recently was asking about songs to make for a dance mix, and immediately I thought of a whirl of what I would put on it. I thought of the rises and falls I follow faithfully, that's when I am completely alone. I mean COMPLETELY by my lonesome.
I called out to you, God;
I laid my case before you:
"Can you sell me for a profit when I'm dead?
auction me off at a cemetery yard sale?
When I'm 'dust to dust' my songs
and stories of you won't sell.
So listen! and be kind!
Help me out of this!"
You did it: you changed wild lament
into whirling dance;
You ripped off my black mourning band
and decked me with wildflowers.
I'm about to burst with song;
I can't keep quiet about you.
God, my God,
I can't thank you enough."
- Psalm 30:9-12 (Message)
Then I dance.
I move to the grooves of life in it's moment, I waltz for London and it's little symphony. I swing with the many mad men who know love better than the rest, and sway with a few lovely sirens, all the while raising that one fist in complete defiance to whatever be the most worth defying. Because happy or sad, sometimes you just have to move. I know I am all alone with really only god to see how stupid I look---and really how stupid do I look. When you feel a little stupid though it helps bring you back down, so you can feel a little bit better. Afterwards I feel almost invincible...at least for a little bit.
At least until I look around, I come back to the world facing me.
The wedding was this past weekend, and it was weird and wonderful as any wedding should be. I made too many scones, and the ones I made didn't taste terrible. I really look up to my sister at least for one thing, she likes to keep moving even up to the last minute! We got there and were thrown our own additional responsibilities. Then she took her bride (she did marry a man, just ask the pastor though he seemed to forget and I quote"Do you take her to be your lovelyhusband?") and ran. You think during weddings you're involved in that you happen to be the only one who is going nuts. Oh those silly lies we believe. I think there should be a full documentation of the bride during her wedding planning phase just so she can go back and see how crazy she drove everyone. It would be a magnificent tenth anniversary present, we could hold a private screening!
So for lack of a better phrasing, it's OVER! My sister knows I love her despite it all, and I gladly welcome whathisface...*ahem* Michael into the family. The rest of us will all step away and leave it up to Beaver, first though I have to see if I can think of 100 more jokes about the fact she is now a Beaver quite literally. Now though I have to get back to homework. The facts, the hard truth, the unsurmountable odds towering over me with its looming shadow leaving me with plenty room to hide.
Truth is...I am a twenty one year man who is loosing a life long fight with PAPERWORK! Come on now, how ridiculous can you really get? It's not like it has any special moves or that final left throw, it's just paper. I say I tried even though I really didn't, because my mind was thinking about how much I had to do and even more about how much I didn't.
I'm in a bit of a pickle here. I know that I need to just start, somewhere. I just want to stop feeling so darn stretched first.
EDIT: Just so yall know, I love this picture. It's of a scarf show from about four months ago that was held in a small gallery. It was such a crap shot and after I figured out color correction...it POPPED. I love it.