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There Is No Spoon
May. 27th, 2009 08:57 amAnd this morning, there's no brain to go with it.
Existential angst isn't back, but existential thoughts are in serious force. Contemplating death. No, not in the suicide way, but in the, why are we here/what's the point way? And even that's harsher sounding than the thought in my head.
Legacy.
That's a better word. I'm thinking on what I want my legacy to be. What I want to leave behind. The vanity of wanting to make my mark and leave a mark on the world before I take my final bow and make my exit, Stage Left.
I've wanted to sing today. Play the flute that Mike was so awesome/gracious to loan me. It's his father's flute. It's not unlike being entrusted with someone's child, to be the keeper of a beloved instrument. Fellow musicians know what I mean. It's a student flute, not a concert flute, but right now, I don't think I would be able to handle a concert flute. Don't have the breath or the mouth anymore. I hope to get it back. Music sometimes is the only thing that can hold how I feel.
But I digress.
The seductive thing is to give in and say it doesn't matter. Not strive. Not bother. But in my gut, I know it for the lie that it is. It may all be Maya, but it's Maya that has Meaning. I'll go down fighting. That's just who I am. Who I've always been, for as long as I can remember.
I feel a waiting. I don't know what I'm waiting for, but I feel it. Something's Coming. Couldn't tell you what it was, but I've felt it before and interesting things have always followed.
Wonder what it'll be this time.
Existential angst isn't back, but existential thoughts are in serious force. Contemplating death. No, not in the suicide way, but in the, why are we here/what's the point way? And even that's harsher sounding than the thought in my head.
Legacy.
That's a better word. I'm thinking on what I want my legacy to be. What I want to leave behind. The vanity of wanting to make my mark and leave a mark on the world before I take my final bow and make my exit, Stage Left.
I've wanted to sing today. Play the flute that Mike was so awesome/gracious to loan me. It's his father's flute. It's not unlike being entrusted with someone's child, to be the keeper of a beloved instrument. Fellow musicians know what I mean. It's a student flute, not a concert flute, but right now, I don't think I would be able to handle a concert flute. Don't have the breath or the mouth anymore. I hope to get it back. Music sometimes is the only thing that can hold how I feel.
But I digress.
The seductive thing is to give in and say it doesn't matter. Not strive. Not bother. But in my gut, I know it for the lie that it is. It may all be Maya, but it's Maya that has Meaning. I'll go down fighting. That's just who I am. Who I've always been, for as long as I can remember.
I feel a waiting. I don't know what I'm waiting for, but I feel it. Something's Coming. Couldn't tell you what it was, but I've felt it before and interesting things have always followed.
Wonder what it'll be this time.
