i’m not sure how many people read this blog, it doesn’t really matter. it’s just broken words, i am speaking into the blue, maybe somebody will read them, maybe somebody will care about them. maybe nobody will. they are just words and feelings, spilling onto a screen.
i’ve been thinking a lot about the people i’ve lost. people who i really loved who i’ve lost. there are only two really. the only friend i ever had and my dad. i’ve been thinking a lot about them both. there’s a song that really helps me to deal with my dad not being around. it’s just over seven years now, but that doesn’t make it suck less, or make it easier. it doesn’t mean i’ve stopped thinking about him. i think about him every day. it hurts almost every day. but this song helps. the bits in bold are my own thoughts.
the streets- never went to church
Two great European narcotics,
Alcohol and Christianity,
I know which one I prefer
when you died, i’d disowned all religion and launched a fully fledged rebellion on all religions. i nearly refused to go to your funeral, because i was so against it.
We never went to church,
Just get on with work and sometimes things’ll hurt,
But it’s hit me since you left us,
And it’s so hard not to search.
but things change, right? you’re always search and always hoping, always pleading that there is something more.
If you were still about,
I’d ask you what I’m supposed to do now,
I just get a bit scared,
Hope I made you proud.
probably the hardest part for me. what do you think of my decisions? what do you think of the person i turned out to be? do you think I’m okay? Do I make you proud?
On your birthday when mom passed the forks and spoons,
I put my head on the table I was so distraught with you,
You tidied your things into the bin,
The more poorly you grew,
So there’s nothing of yours to hold or to talk to.
the more ill you got and the more that horrible disease ate away at you, the more you got rid of stuff. you gave stuff to my sisters and aunts, sold the rest, chucked the rest away. what about me?
Put your hand up and interrupt the conversation with a, but..
People say I interrupt people with the same look.
Sometimes I think so hard I can’t remember how your face looked,
Started reading about dreams in your favourite book.
Panic and pace when I can’t see the right thing to do.
You’d be scratching your head through the best advice you knew.
And I feel sad I can’t hear you reciting it through,
I miss you dad but I’ve got nothing to remind me of you
they say I have your temper and i have your eyes. I have your honesty. Your crassness. Apparently, I’m a lot like you. And I always read about the things you liked. I even read about stupid pigeon racing and I have a Jack Russell, one that’s a bit of an asshole, just like you, just like me.
I needed a break when your book about dreams was taken,
I needed to pray or see a priest that day,
I needed to leave this trade and just heave it away.
But I cleaned up my place like you so I could see things straight.
the only thing of you I had was your ring and your electronic chess set. the ring was stolen and the chess set got lost during one of my many moves. I have nothing now, nothing except the tattoos on my skin. I need something, someone to help me.
I never cared about God when life was sailin’ in the calm,
So I said I’d get my head down and I’d deal with the ache in my heart,
And for that if God exists I’d reckon he’d pay me regard,
Mom says me and you are the same from the start.
I guess than you did leave me something to remind me of you,
Everytime I interrupt someone like you used to,
When I do something like you you’ll be on my mind or through,
‘Cause I forgot you left me behind to remind me of you.
But you you still tell me how you didn’t know what to do even now,
And then I’m not so scared somehow,
‘Cause I know that you’d be proud.
not sure if I know, I think you’d be ok with me. And I think you’d think I’m quite a bit like you. I’m even going grey already, just like you did when you were my age.
I got a good one for you dad,
I’m gonna see a priest, a Rabbi and a Protestant clergyman,
You always said I should hedge my bets.
I miss you.