Feeling Hellish. . . you can always make 'MEATLOAF'. . .

July 31, 2011

Data Enty - 38

Mr. Haversham. . .

While I have not been in the mood to write for a very long time, the one thing that stirs my soul, is Meatloaf.

Raw, dangerous, sexual, and full of angst.  The angst. . . is for oneself, to decide.  There in lies the beauty of his lyrics. . .to all of his songs.   It is to each of us, a meaning that is, within itself. . . full of longing, time passing, circumstances and the enevitable outcome of one's actions.

The older I get, while I do have some regrets, most are not of my making.  Odd as that may seem, and do not mistake me when I say that I have none, but those that were the folly of others, is what I have been forced to live by, and I do so now, as I always have, and always will. 

"On a hot summers night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses". . . .it was yes then, and it will always be yes.

Why? Because, that wolf, although he does not know it, mated for life. That is the nature of the beast.

And while 'two oughta three ain't bad', confessions of one soul mate to another by the 'dashboard lights' as it you go faster, faster, faster and oh so much farther. . . goes a long way. . .and while 'objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they seem' . . '.a kiss is a terrible thing to waste'. . .

So now I am prayin for the end of time. . . where it was long ago and far away and so much better than it is today. . .

I would do anything for love, but I won't do that. . .

How do you know?  Have you ever asked yourself that question?  I mean, while you were really in-love, not just in-lust, or in-sexed based frenzy, what would you do?  How do you know what you would or would not do for the real love of another?  The truth. . . you don't, until you are faced with that scenerio.

Once you made that step, you would never be able to turn back. . . think about the people you would hurt, yourself is not a consideration as you have already made that decision.  Can you hurt those that depend on you and walk away from a lifetime that was filled with 'woulda, shoulda, coulda'. . .for the sake of 'what if, maybe, and I coulds'. . .

To you my friend, to grasp the other side, is to hold sand in your hand until it runs out.  You will never be young, for you, were born old and an old soul. . . is a restless one.  To look farther afield, is to fuck up your tri-focals and spend more at the optomologist than it is worth. . .

I will always love you, but perspective has taught me that you cannot re-capture what was once beheld and then lost. . .