Shit's been going awry lately, and it's getting more and more taxing to keep a positive outlook.
My outlook is usually objective - I see life from an airplane - problem is when everything is going wrong there's no denying it. It's all out there in front of you and you have to face it, and it sucks. Most of the time I want to bail out the plane. The hardest thing to do is trying not to fall in the "why me?" frame of mind. I don't like being a whiner either, so it's gets really lonely keeping everything to yourself. Rather than saying "whiner" I should say vunerable. I don't like making myself vunerable.
You know they say ignorance is bliss... it's true. I wish I had it. At the very least I wish I had my innocence.
"Innocence"
Innocence when were children we possess it without giving true regard or recognition to it. Then, as adults as if disrupted by maturity - we lament not being capable of the virtue any longer.
Love, the word itself is imbibed with innocence, though is never spoken of without rhetoric on commitment, correct procedures, and protocol. Only in fairy tales is love truly considered innocent. Parents often imbue children the belief that they could not know romantic love as children. Consumed with stereotypical associations and results of such fuels their resolve to ban it; all the perversions they name lust, are the consequences of their obstinacy to repress it. Truly, I believe a child can possess both love and innocence an innocent love. And though I dont recall her name, the impression of innocence is with me still.
The night was dark and cold, clouds loomed above begging to burst and pour down upon me. I cared not. In fact, nothing could rain on my parade; it was Friday night after all. Sarcasm because, to be true, I really didnt care. Ive played out this scenario multiple times. To say, this act countless times, for the smile that was to appear on my face was not my own. It was the smile of the person who would meet me first. Certainly, It would be rude to enter such an atmosphere not in proper jovial accord. That agreement, the attire I was to wear, seemed very less agreeable to me now. My whole person appeared as a compilation of attitudes, gestures, and remarks to which would gain me the best reaction, and the avoidance of unpleasant confrontation. I seriously considered turning back as I made my way up the front porch steps, but then the door opened and the facade began. I smiled it was too late.
If my own self-doubt didnt hold me fast the ambiance did. Not just candles in a French bistro, ambiance is an environment that entices and dwells in your mind with its unique assault on your senses. The aroma of beer, cigars, and perfume fills the air and smells sweet, and though thick and heavy on your lungs, is quite a force to retreat from. And the sounds of shuffling cards, music, and laughter draws a lonely soul to their side like none other. You dont necessarily have to be lonely to be attracted to such a social gathering: you may be unfulfilled in many other ways. I was lonely and unfulfilled so the intangible hand of invitation swept me right in without any semblance of a will of protest. Only a few moments past until my farce was fully donned and in motion; a beer was in my hand and, with a smile firmly pasted across my face, I fell away from myself.
You know its funny, I have heard the phrase many times, and then my life flashed before my eyes and it all became clear. I had always associated the statement with the threats of impending death like a plane crash, a car accident, and even a hostage situation - though I never considered the same revelation could occur with the promiscuity of impending life.
Then, I saw her sitting on the couch across the living room from where I was standing and suddenly everything became crystal clear. The lies, the faade I was living all crumbled before innocence personified in her. In the presence of her beauty, her unequivocal beauty all iniquities shattered like brittle glass to the strike of a hammer. It wasnt the fact that she was perfect aesthetically that founded her beauty, it was the fact that she was uncorrupted by this place, which seemed to let no one exist here without being tarnished by its assault. Her eyes shimmered when they finally swept across the room and found mine staring directly at her. I quickly withdrew turning my head briskly to the side. When I turned back she was staring at me. She was perfect. Her beautiful hazel eyes locked me in an embrace more passionate than any kiss Id ever had. Her dark brown hair flew more gracefully among her slender shoulders than any bird Ive ever seen. And her soft lips adorned a smile so genuine it drew and guided me to her side.
My name is. The touch of her finger placed over my lips canceled any pretense. I was speechless.
Shhhh. She whispered as she rose gracefully to her feet.
A gentle tug of hand and she had me to my feet. There was no release and she held my hand gently as she walked me to the center of the living room. She pulled up close to me and whispered softly in to my ear, Dance with me.
My whole body tingled as she delicately blew into my ear. When she finally withdrew and met me face to face I, for the first time, had a smile of my own to greet her with. I took her hand in mine, looked deeply into her eyes, and I knew that I loved her. Her smile matching mine she took hold of my other hand and we danced. We danced with four left feet without and totally out of rhythm with the music. Obnoxious with the dips and twirls of our personal ballroom dance satire, we opposed all the dirty looks and reactions of onlookers for not complying with proper conduct. We were so free I thought it would never end. My life began again at that moment.
Then as if fate demanded the end to such bliss some drunk tripped and spilled beer all over us. I turned to meet the guy in violent protest. I began to fall way from myself. Surprised, a blow jolted me from behind. As I turned, she hit me again with a blow and a scowl. Then, a smile as she jerked at my hand and lead me out the door. I walked over to the side of the house, where she was leaning with her back against the side of the house.
Im sorry. She placed her smooth finger over my lips.
I wasnt speechless. I put my hand against the house above her shoulder, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, I want to kiss you.
Embarrassed of what I just said I turned to walk away. Then she kissed me. My whole body went totally numb and was overwhelmed by a warmth and sensation that could only be described as ecstasy.
She responded and whispered; I want to do more than kiss you.
She took my hand and led me all the way to her bedroom. The next morning I left. I never saw her again. I was scared and being consumed with the standards and stigmas of everyday life I let myself taint my image of her. It wasnt until years later I realized what I had lost. I lost my innocence.
My outlook is usually objective - I see life from an airplane - problem is when everything is going wrong there's no denying it. It's all out there in front of you and you have to face it, and it sucks. Most of the time I want to bail out the plane. The hardest thing to do is trying not to fall in the "why me?" frame of mind. I don't like being a whiner either, so it's gets really lonely keeping everything to yourself. Rather than saying "whiner" I should say vunerable. I don't like making myself vunerable.
You know they say ignorance is bliss... it's true. I wish I had it. At the very least I wish I had my innocence.
"Innocence"
Innocence when were children we possess it without giving true regard or recognition to it. Then, as adults as if disrupted by maturity - we lament not being capable of the virtue any longer.
Love, the word itself is imbibed with innocence, though is never spoken of without rhetoric on commitment, correct procedures, and protocol. Only in fairy tales is love truly considered innocent. Parents often imbue children the belief that they could not know romantic love as children. Consumed with stereotypical associations and results of such fuels their resolve to ban it; all the perversions they name lust, are the consequences of their obstinacy to repress it. Truly, I believe a child can possess both love and innocence an innocent love. And though I dont recall her name, the impression of innocence is with me still.
The night was dark and cold, clouds loomed above begging to burst and pour down upon me. I cared not. In fact, nothing could rain on my parade; it was Friday night after all. Sarcasm because, to be true, I really didnt care. Ive played out this scenario multiple times. To say, this act countless times, for the smile that was to appear on my face was not my own. It was the smile of the person who would meet me first. Certainly, It would be rude to enter such an atmosphere not in proper jovial accord. That agreement, the attire I was to wear, seemed very less agreeable to me now. My whole person appeared as a compilation of attitudes, gestures, and remarks to which would gain me the best reaction, and the avoidance of unpleasant confrontation. I seriously considered turning back as I made my way up the front porch steps, but then the door opened and the facade began. I smiled it was too late.
If my own self-doubt didnt hold me fast the ambiance did. Not just candles in a French bistro, ambiance is an environment that entices and dwells in your mind with its unique assault on your senses. The aroma of beer, cigars, and perfume fills the air and smells sweet, and though thick and heavy on your lungs, is quite a force to retreat from. And the sounds of shuffling cards, music, and laughter draws a lonely soul to their side like none other. You dont necessarily have to be lonely to be attracted to such a social gathering: you may be unfulfilled in many other ways. I was lonely and unfulfilled so the intangible hand of invitation swept me right in without any semblance of a will of protest. Only a few moments past until my farce was fully donned and in motion; a beer was in my hand and, with a smile firmly pasted across my face, I fell away from myself.
You know its funny, I have heard the phrase many times, and then my life flashed before my eyes and it all became clear. I had always associated the statement with the threats of impending death like a plane crash, a car accident, and even a hostage situation - though I never considered the same revelation could occur with the promiscuity of impending life.
Then, I saw her sitting on the couch across the living room from where I was standing and suddenly everything became crystal clear. The lies, the faade I was living all crumbled before innocence personified in her. In the presence of her beauty, her unequivocal beauty all iniquities shattered like brittle glass to the strike of a hammer. It wasnt the fact that she was perfect aesthetically that founded her beauty, it was the fact that she was uncorrupted by this place, which seemed to let no one exist here without being tarnished by its assault. Her eyes shimmered when they finally swept across the room and found mine staring directly at her. I quickly withdrew turning my head briskly to the side. When I turned back she was staring at me. She was perfect. Her beautiful hazel eyes locked me in an embrace more passionate than any kiss Id ever had. Her dark brown hair flew more gracefully among her slender shoulders than any bird Ive ever seen. And her soft lips adorned a smile so genuine it drew and guided me to her side.
My name is. The touch of her finger placed over my lips canceled any pretense. I was speechless.
Shhhh. She whispered as she rose gracefully to her feet.
A gentle tug of hand and she had me to my feet. There was no release and she held my hand gently as she walked me to the center of the living room. She pulled up close to me and whispered softly in to my ear, Dance with me.
My whole body tingled as she delicately blew into my ear. When she finally withdrew and met me face to face I, for the first time, had a smile of my own to greet her with. I took her hand in mine, looked deeply into her eyes, and I knew that I loved her. Her smile matching mine she took hold of my other hand and we danced. We danced with four left feet without and totally out of rhythm with the music. Obnoxious with the dips and twirls of our personal ballroom dance satire, we opposed all the dirty looks and reactions of onlookers for not complying with proper conduct. We were so free I thought it would never end. My life began again at that moment.
Then as if fate demanded the end to such bliss some drunk tripped and spilled beer all over us. I turned to meet the guy in violent protest. I began to fall way from myself. Surprised, a blow jolted me from behind. As I turned, she hit me again with a blow and a scowl. Then, a smile as she jerked at my hand and lead me out the door. I walked over to the side of the house, where she was leaning with her back against the side of the house.
Im sorry. She placed her smooth finger over my lips.
I wasnt speechless. I put my hand against the house above her shoulder, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, I want to kiss you.
Embarrassed of what I just said I turned to walk away. Then she kissed me. My whole body went totally numb and was overwhelmed by a warmth and sensation that could only be described as ecstasy.
She responded and whispered; I want to do more than kiss you.
She took my hand and led me all the way to her bedroom. The next morning I left. I never saw her again. I was scared and being consumed with the standards and stigmas of everyday life I let myself taint my image of her. It wasnt until years later I realized what I had lost. I lost my innocence.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
I see the mystery girls all the time, they are playing every wednesday at the main stage this summer, which is cool. they play at studio east a lot too. in fact i just saw them a couple weeks ago. i like them on occasion when i'm in the mood for that type of music, great guys.
come visit jakes' next time you in gb.