Silence and Mud Morganfield
Sometimes the world is just too loud.
Too busy.
Too loud.
It fires word bullets at you from an automatic weapon that you have no shield or vest to combat. Damn bullets. The world is so busy. And its coming at you. You raise wrist after wrist and try to deflect the busy bullets like the Wonder Woman you let the world believe you are but they are starting to penetrate.... they are getting in- striking the head and the heart and the head and the heart.
It's so God damned busy.
Sometimes when quiet is all you want - what you crave and need more than air itself....you have to silence yourself and...... everyone else. In the wise, wise words of Mud Morganfield... "Don't write me no letters.. don't choo call me on the phone.." Maybe its a glass of Merlot that brings the silence. Maybe its the sound of those blues you've heard almost every day that drowns out the noise with a harmonica, or the piano that hits high keys after those soulful, wishful voices have rested. It could be the deep, deep breath you take that seems to inhale all the stress and then blow it... away. Or perhaps its that little bird. The one skipping behind you in the grass and staring in the door at you while you write about quiet and Mud Morganfield and word bullets.
Those fucking bullets.
At some point, in the midst of the subtle joy you find when you finally begin to completely shut the world out......you're reminded of what you wanted. What you deserve and what you should have and maybe its when everything else is quiet that you finally start to hear yourself talking.
The question now is.... are you listening?
You remember that you were; at one time - able to keep up on everything and that you were smart enough to get ahead of the tsunami and swim harder and faster than most. But is that what has you so tired now? Maybe you've been swimming for so long that you're just tired of the continuous strokes and dives.
You remember that long ago, there were some that actually loved you. Told you that you were beautiful all the time. Have you lessened in beauty? Its entirely possible, you know. You had ones who loved you fully until they tired of you and ran off. Where is it they go exactly?
When did you reach the point that you couldn't swim or stay afloat? When did you lose the beauty they talked of and seriously- where do they go? You still have those other qualities - the ones you thought would be most important. The attributes you were sure would make that 'ONE' see you as that beautiful, pop-like song "Just The Way You Are" that Bruno sings so sweetly. So incredibly simply.
Your beauty has faded. Your swim strokes have slowed. And things got loud. Very loud. With lots and lots of noise.
Make it stop.
No more noise.
Shhhhh... silence.... just for a little while.... long enough to catch your breath..... shhhhhhhhhh.
Rest your mind.
Your heart.
And tomorrow when the day is new...... think. Something needs to change.
Too busy.
Too loud.
It fires word bullets at you from an automatic weapon that you have no shield or vest to combat. Damn bullets. The world is so busy. And its coming at you. You raise wrist after wrist and try to deflect the busy bullets like the Wonder Woman you let the world believe you are but they are starting to penetrate.... they are getting in- striking the head and the heart and the head and the heart.
It's so God damned busy.
Sometimes when quiet is all you want - what you crave and need more than air itself....you have to silence yourself and...... everyone else. In the wise, wise words of Mud Morganfield... "Don't write me no letters.. don't choo call me on the phone.." Maybe its a glass of Merlot that brings the silence. Maybe its the sound of those blues you've heard almost every day that drowns out the noise with a harmonica, or the piano that hits high keys after those soulful, wishful voices have rested. It could be the deep, deep breath you take that seems to inhale all the stress and then blow it... away. Or perhaps its that little bird. The one skipping behind you in the grass and staring in the door at you while you write about quiet and Mud Morganfield and word bullets.
Those fucking bullets.
At some point, in the midst of the subtle joy you find when you finally begin to completely shut the world out......you're reminded of what you wanted. What you deserve and what you should have and maybe its when everything else is quiet that you finally start to hear yourself talking.
The question now is.... are you listening?
You remember that you were; at one time - able to keep up on everything and that you were smart enough to get ahead of the tsunami and swim harder and faster than most. But is that what has you so tired now? Maybe you've been swimming for so long that you're just tired of the continuous strokes and dives.
You remember that long ago, there were some that actually loved you. Told you that you were beautiful all the time. Have you lessened in beauty? Its entirely possible, you know. You had ones who loved you fully until they tired of you and ran off. Where is it they go exactly?
When did you reach the point that you couldn't swim or stay afloat? When did you lose the beauty they talked of and seriously- where do they go? You still have those other qualities - the ones you thought would be most important. The attributes you were sure would make that 'ONE' see you as that beautiful, pop-like song "Just The Way You Are" that Bruno sings so sweetly. So incredibly simply.
Your beauty has faded. Your swim strokes have slowed. And things got loud. Very loud. With lots and lots of noise.
Make it stop.
No more noise.
Shhhhh... silence.... just for a little while.... long enough to catch your breath..... shhhhhhhhhh.
Rest your mind.
Your heart.
And tomorrow when the day is new...... think. Something needs to change.
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