isolation

It burns hot

A story from the red book:

an ice cream cone with strawberry ice cream

I say that I am angry, but I should use a more precise word. What is that word?

It burns hot as I run through the hall. I see the apartments rush by. Some doors are open to life shining brightly. Love drifts out in pure laughter. I don’t stop; I urgently push on so that I cannot hear the voices trailing off behind me.

I have been here before, but every time it feels new. One time I left behind a luscious feast. On another, the party was just getting rowdy when my tripwire was triggered. I pride my self-awareness but this pattern is invisible to me. I am alarmed once I stop running but I never go back.

I try to live by the principles of a life in the sunlight. I am kind and willing to help. I walk to the park and laugh at the squirrels. I don’t understand the explosions.

Once I reach home, I search for something to eat. Maybe I will reward myself with some ice cream. I never remember the route I took. I guess it doesn’t matter. It was a safe journey.

No one asks me how I know it is time to go. I get quizzical messages as I flee. What did they do wrong? Why did I have to ruin the celebration? It’s one worry or another. By now, they should realize I will ignore their entreaties.

It has been a long time since I was able to laugh at myself. My breath is a struggle once it starts. If only I would let go of the door. I could be undamaged.

Am I in a loop? What repairs do I need? Instead of my disorder, I could give my regrets when I am invited. I could make an excuse just before I should have arrived. It would be easy. After a few withdrawals, I might stop getting invitations. After that, I might not be aware of what I have done. I might get peevish and isolated. I can erect strong fences of resentment but that won’t fix anything.

I could find someone to blame but it would just be denying the truth: I am my own trouble. I think it would be better if I could admit my quirks. I could make it into a funny story. Calling it a quirk would remove the firing pin. I could say, pardon, I need to take a break and then move into another room. I would find an empty chamber. The hammer would strike a void.

Angels in the Snow

headphones

When you’re pulled away from connection, the emptiness cannot be filled with distractions that try to protect the best memories. Remembering is a burden that freezes life. The time spent in the evening alone can be an opportunity for sadness and a time for melancholy reflection. The song Alienation by Morning Parade comforts the listener with an appealing image of childhood, making angels in the snow, which contrasts with powerful memories of regret.

The music of Alienation has an insistent beat that matches the chorus’s encouragement to “love a little more” and “live without regrets.” The lyrics insist that it is possible to distract oneself from the anguish of being alone in a world that doesn’t need you. While waiting for change, the song offers hope that one’s life is not set in stone: you’re not doomed to repeat the suffering that came unbidden.

Alienation is a song about distance and separation. It suggests one can escape the schizoid attitude that one doesn’t need anyone else. Rather than knowing that they have nothing to offer, the musicians explain that they might be a source of renewal. The song says that isolation is not an inescapable fate. One can save a few happy memories like playing in the snow as you search for a new way to relate to the world.

This song is the second track from the Morning Parade album “Pure Adulterated Joy” which was released in 2014.

The lyrics describe the tension between one’s world being destroyed and finding a new way to live. Loving more is a way out of despair over one’s past. Even though you are alienated from your past life, you’re in a galaxy full of possibilities. Once you can’t reach out to home anymore and you’re on your own, you can live without regret as you remember simple pleasures and construct a life worth living.