Crickets. Cicadas. Fan. Tree frogs. Snoring dogs: Islands of warmth in the bed. This is what I know: it doesn't matter how many deaths there have been or whether you pray or not, or anything short of a cataclysmic, apocalyptic Come to Jesus moment, Cherubim & Seraphim included. Lights, bells, heavenly host. The smell of sweet roses and burned lavender. None of it matters. This is not moving. It will not change. There is nothing more to do but to give up. I've tried seismic shifts, astral projection, love, sandwiches, messages carved in wood, mix tapes, head down do nothing, head up and sing like an angel. Nothing shifts in stasis.
And so: I. Give. Up. I am officially (unofficially) and thoroughly done. Stick a fork in me.
Mozart Clarinet Concerto (adagio) sounds like mercy. Truly. Do yourself a favor and download it. Listen. It is what mercy sounds like. It is all we have.
Also, Crimond.
6 comments:
I think you have rowed long enough and hard enough and if they still want to get back in the boat then I think it is no bad thing to let go and keep rowing towards that beautiful island where things will be peaceful.
let go. don't give up, miss whistle. you're far too poignant for that. love x
I hope you have only given up for today, for peace and will return tomorrow. As Janelle has said, please don't give up. Maybe just a different way to go on?
aagh, meant - if they still don't want to get back in the boat
Sometimes giving up is exactly the right thing to do.....and then you can start up again, refreshed and replenished when you decide that's the right thing to do.
There's giving up, and then there's surrendering. I have found surrender to be a good host. I hope you are OK.
Post a Comment