Gone
As I advance deeper into this veil of tears, I realize that the memories that I possess will die when I exit. This could be tragic. On the other hand, many of the things that happened to me (or that I caused to happen) deserve to disappear permanently from this earth when I do.
One example of this is my music. I love to sing and play the piano. I even used to get paid for doing it because I'm a ham, love an audience, and can "sell" a song. My appeal, however, is definitely not to afficionados. My fingering is atrocious and I'm faking it most of the time. People like to listen for reasons which are unfathomable to me. My songwriting is the same, formulaic, banal, but somehow it catches the ear. It needs to be purged, and fortuately will be when I'm gone.
Another thing that will go is the memory of my treatment of women in my early years. The things I did and said for the sheer purpose of maneuvering a female into bed, the lies I told, the manipulations I pulled, all the ploys used by a predatory male. The tragedy is that the more vulnerable a woman was the more likely I was to succeed. Worse yet, I became so adept at leaving relationships that the "victims" actually felt good about the whole thing. I wasn't even honest enough to let them hate me as they should. All this will pass when I do, leaving only a fond memory, if anything at all.
It's strange that the human mind remembers vividly the mistakes and gaffes that we make and that no amount of effort will erase them. The compulsion to go back decades and try to fix the hurtful things we've done is overwhelming, but of course impossible. The good news is that as I move along in years I seem to be getting better at not repeating them. Women (of all ages, apparently) are still drawn to me without all the effort I used to put into it. I don't think that I'm really getting nicer, I've just got a better memory.
Later
As I advance deeper into this veil of tears, I realize that the memories that I possess will die when I exit. This could be tragic. On the other hand, many of the things that happened to me (or that I caused to happen) deserve to disappear permanently from this earth when I do.
One example of this is my music. I love to sing and play the piano. I even used to get paid for doing it because I'm a ham, love an audience, and can "sell" a song. My appeal, however, is definitely not to afficionados. My fingering is atrocious and I'm faking it most of the time. People like to listen for reasons which are unfathomable to me. My songwriting is the same, formulaic, banal, but somehow it catches the ear. It needs to be purged, and fortuately will be when I'm gone.
Another thing that will go is the memory of my treatment of women in my early years. The things I did and said for the sheer purpose of maneuvering a female into bed, the lies I told, the manipulations I pulled, all the ploys used by a predatory male. The tragedy is that the more vulnerable a woman was the more likely I was to succeed. Worse yet, I became so adept at leaving relationships that the "victims" actually felt good about the whole thing. I wasn't even honest enough to let them hate me as they should. All this will pass when I do, leaving only a fond memory, if anything at all.
It's strange that the human mind remembers vividly the mistakes and gaffes that we make and that no amount of effort will erase them. The compulsion to go back decades and try to fix the hurtful things we've done is overwhelming, but of course impossible. The good news is that as I move along in years I seem to be getting better at not repeating them. Women (of all ages, apparently) are still drawn to me without all the effort I used to put into it. I don't think that I'm really getting nicer, I've just got a better memory.
Later
posted by Papa Bill | 7:16 PM
1 Comments:
Good post. Do you have any samples of your music online? You would like my brother's stuff. He's a pianist in NYC. www.joeraciti.com
Later.
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