Comfortably Sad

Stevie Nicks -  Beauty and the Beast

You're not a stranger to me,
And you, well you're something to see.
You don't even know how to please.
You say a lot but you're unaware how to leave.

My darling lives in a world that is not mine.
An old child, misunderstood. Out of time.
Timeless is the creature who is wise
And timeless is the prisoner in disguise.

Who is the beauty, who the beast?
Would you die of grieving when I leave?
Two children, too blind to see . . .
I would fall in your shadow, I believe.

My love is a man who's not been tamed.
My love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain.
We come from different worlds; we are the same.

I never doubted your beauty, I've changed.
I never doubted your beauty, I've changed.

Who is the beauty?
Where is my beast?
There is no beauty without my beast.
Who is the beauty; who the beast.

For Hamper G's Dad on Fathers Day much love from . . . The Daddio

He's counting the remainder of his sentence in months now, rather than years and months . . . Counting the months to freedom. Freedom from one prison . . . back to the life sentence.Will he ever be free? I know he dreams of freedom; of running over hills and mountains, laughing in deerskin breeches or maybe they are actual deer's hind legs . . . he's never sure and always says he'll look properly next time. It's a recurring dream. He's nearly died so many times; I can only assume God wants him alive. Alive and living. All these lives that could be lived, that should be lived and loved. Why does hindsight come too late . . . I have no problem thinking what I might say on the brink of death . . . All these years. What I might do if I could have them again. Live life next time. I know what I'd say so why can't I feel what I'd feel. Feel that desperation to have another chance. Starting now. This is it . . . this is the another chance. Now and here. Why can't I grasp this. I'm stood on the brink of life, almost ready . . . but frightened to take the chance. To risk choosing life !? . . . If I wasn't me, I would shake myself, proper and slap myself . . . "Wake up" I'd shout "And feel it ALL. NOW!! . . . Before it's too late" But I am me so I won't.

I'm thinking aloud here really. I don't know where I'm going, other than to bed I suppose.
Monday tomorrow and all that jazz . . That's OK, I need a bit of jazz. Jazz is distracting. I've been solid busy all weekend yet somehow I've still been locked in my thoughts. Busy but sad and pensive.

I must say I'm not used to feeling sad. It's weird to feel like this and not be able to reason with it. To know and deal with the cause . . . It's just a very general sadness. Not depression. Not fear or anxiety. Not even tearful. So why sad?
I'd quite like to sit here and write for a while but I know I need to sleep soon to wake up . . . happy? No, to wake up not too tired. I might wake up happy, that would be a surprise. I'm sort of settling into this sad thing; getting comfortable.

This was going to be one of four short "Musical dedication plus a few Happy Fathers Day words of kindness" to each of the four fathers in my life; mine and the three Dads . . . But I got distracted and now it's too late. Not that they read here . . . I can do it late. Who's gonna know. But not tonight, I'm tired. Once again, I'm not going back to read over this; just a quick spellcheck and that'll do.

And then Goodnight to anyone reading this. Thanks for reading. Writing is definitely helping me to think further, to try and work through feelings and resolve issues. I know some folk say they would still write if there were no readers, but I wouldn't . Well I don't think I would . . . But anyway, I'm really pleased you're here reading and I do mean, thank you. You are appreciated. Really. I'm gone . . .

Ps . . . It's past 2am and I only just noticed there are comments on my last post (Save the night) . . . I will reply to them (of course) tomorrow. Thanks again x