Hope Contagium

A therapy journal of self-obsession, depression and meaning.

Tag: music

La Vie

So I drank two glasses of wine at a pub while listening to a discussion on tragedy. Then made my way home. As I waited for my train I bought a McDonald’s meal. But oh so laughed the universe at me: there were no seats in the train. So I had to eat my food crouching on my knees on the train floor. After I was finished, with my very unhealthy dinner, I had to entertain myself for the rest of the way home. So I sang songs out loud in the train (but quietly so only I could really hear me). First I sang of freedom, afterwards of goodness, followed by a song of love and finally songs of death. Throughout all this, I was still desperately hoping to see this one man’s face in front of me, all the way home.
La vie… Porquoi? Je ne sais pas.

Close Your Eyes

You’re desperate; desperate for so many things you are too lazy to even try to accomplish. You give up before beginning. You can’t even remember why you are so desperate. The only thing you see is this black hole you find yourself in. You eat to feel better; hoping the short vague pleasure will help; it only makes you feel worse.
Put on Tchaikovsky and let his creative tunes caress your mind. The music shows you old fairy tales and you taste Russian greatness. Slow beauty, steady accumulation, the echo of careful bells, sharp outbursts, and playful sounds turn into powerful roars. When you hear the choir of little boys sing you imagine such simplified glory. Their song makes you feel loved. You remember when you were happy. Finally the music allows you to disappear.
Just close your eyes.

It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)

Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying

Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
Person crying

So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing

As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred

Disillusioned words like bullets bark
As human gods aim for their mark
Make everything from toy guns that spark
To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark
It’s easy to see without looking too far
That not much is really sacred

While preachers preach of evil fates
Teachers teach that knowledge waits
Can lead to hundred-dollar plates
Goodness hides behind its gates
But even the president of the United States
Sometimes must have to stand naked

An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it

Advertising signs they con
You into thinking you’re the one
That can do what’s never been done
That can win what’s never been won
Meantime life outside goes on
All around you

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks they really found you

A question in your eyes is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit
To satisfy, insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to

Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to

For them that must bow down to authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destiny
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate what they did to be
Nothing more than something they invest in

While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him

While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in

But I mean no harm nor put fault
On anyone living in a vault
But it’s alright, Ma, if I can’t please him

Old lady judges watch people in pairs
Limited in sex, they dare
To tell fake morals, insult and stare
While money doesn’t talk, it swears
Obscenity, who really cares
Propaganda, all is phony

While them that defend what they cannot see
With a killer’s pride, security
It blows the minds most bitterly
For them that think death’s honesty
Won’t fall upon them naturally
Life sometimes must get lonely

My eyes collide head-on with stuffed
Graveyards, false gods, I scuff
At pettiness which plays so rough
Walk upside-down inside handcuffs
Kick my legs to crash it off
Say alright, I’ve had enough, what else can you show me?

And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only


Bob Dylan,
Bringing It All Back Home, 1964
Press here to listen to this song

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