Black Swan (Lyrics)

-Thom Yorke

What will grow quickly, that you can't make straight
It's the price you gotta pay
Do yourself a favour and pack you bags
Buy a ticket and get on the train
Buy a ticket and get on the train

Cause this is fucked up, fucked up
Cause this is fucked up, fucked up

People get crushed like biscuit crumbs
And laid down in the bed you made
You have tried your best to please everyone
But it just isn't happening
No, it just isn't happening

And it's fucked up, fucked up
And this is fucked up, fucked up
This your blind spot, blind spot
It should be obvious, but it's not.
But it isn't, but it isn't

You cannot kickstart a dead horse
You just crush yourself and walk away
I don't care what the future holds
Cause I'm right here in your arms today
With your fingers you can touch me

I'm your black swan, black swan
But I made it to the top, made it to the top
This is fucked up, fucked up

You are fucked up, fucked up
This is fucked up, fucked up

Be your black swan, black swan
I'm for spare parts, broken up

Hear the song here

Simple Woman (A fairytale I wrote for my girl)

In a time not much different than now. In a place not too different than where you are. There lived a woman. She was not a woman of beauty. Not a woman of quick wit, but a woman with a kind heart.

She lived a quiet, simple life. She lived in a simple home, with a simple cat. She was mostly a happy woman, but sometimes she was lonely. To comfort herself she would read great stories of love and romance. She would pretend she was the beautiful heroine. She would dream that her prince would come riding up and tell her he was going to take her away from her simple life and show her wonders she could never imagine. These dreams would get her through the darkest and loneliest days.

One day, while the simple woman sat on her porch petting her simple cat, she heard a strange noise. It sounded like a tiny voice crying for help. The simple woman followed the tiny voice. To her surprise, the voice led her to a tiny winged fairy lying in the rose patch.
"Kind madam, could you please help me?", asked the fairy, "I seem to have caught my wing on a thorn and now I cannot fly. If you do not help me I will surely perish in this August sun!"
"Of course I will help you." Replied the simple woman. Without another thought, she gently picked up the tiny fairy and carried him to her simple house. Out of her sewing basket, she found her finest silk thread and mended the fairy's broken wing.

Several days and nights passed while the tiny fairy lay in the tiny makeshift bed. Every day the woman made the fairy meals of sunflower seeds and honey. Every morning she collected dew
drops for the tiny fairy to drink from her finest thimble. Every evening she would read him great stories from her books until he was lulled to sleep.

One morning, when the simple woman returned home, after collecting dewdrops, she noticed the tiny makeshift bed was empty. The woman, worried about her tiny fairy friend, called out for him.

"Hello, where are you my friend?", she called.
"I am all around you." Replied a voice that seemed to be coming from all the corners of the room.
"I don't understand." Said the simple woman.
"My dear lady," echoed the fairy, "My wings are healed and fairies move too quickly for your human eyes to see."
"Now I understand." Said the simple woman looking around the room wondering just where her friend might be.

"I could not leave without thanking you for all of your kindness. You saved me from a sure death." Said the fairy.

At that moment, something dropped to the floor by the simple woman's feet. She reached down and picked up what looked like a smooth heart shaped seed, which fit in the palm of her hand.




"What is this?” asked the woman.
"Your kindness touched me so and renewed my faith in the human capacity for unconditional love and kindness. So, I give you my heart,” said the Fairy. "In human hands, a fairy heart can be a powerful tool. When you wear it close to your own heart it reflects to the world your true beauty, the beauty that comes from within. It can help lead you to your heart's desires."

With that, the door flew open. The simple woman knew the tiny fairy was gone. She placed the smooth fairy heart in her pocket closest to her own heart, and waited. Nothing happened.
"That is peculiar." She thought, "I don't feel any different. Oh well, the gift was kind, and it is the thought that counts. It will be my new good luck charm."

The simple woman smiled to herself and patted her front pocket.

Now that all of the excitement was over the simple woman knew it was time to get back to her normal life. While taking care of the tiny fairy, she had not been to the market in a long while and her supplies were running low. It was time to go to town.

Walking down the main street in the center of town, the woman noticed something strange was going on with the town people. Everywhere she looked the people were smiling and whispering and looking in her direction.

"I wonder why everyone is looking at me?" Thought the simple woman, "I hope my clothes are straight and I don't have dirt on the end of my nose!"

She imagined walking down the center of town with crooked clothes and a mud pie balanced on the end of her nose. This mental picture made her giggle to herself.
"My angel, your laughter is like music." Said a deep voice, interrupting her daydream.
To the simple woman's surprise it was Mr. Duboir, the most handsome and wealthiest man in town. The simple woman knew him because she cleaned his house from time to time over the years.

"Are you a vision or are you real? Dare I ask you your name and risk you disappearing, leaving me with a broken heart for the rest of my days?" asked Mr. Duboir, without taking his eyes off of the simple woman for a second.
"It is just I, the simple woman who looks after your house from time to time." She replied, quite confused by the way he was acting.

"I can't believe I have employed such a lovely creature all this time in such a menial task as cleaning my house. You should be treated as no less than a queen and you should have people cleaning your house!" announced Mr. Duboir.

"I have never thought of my job as menial. In fact I take great pride in my work. You are a handsome and wealthy man and I find your words flattering, confusing, but nonetheless flattering. When I look in your eyes, for some reason unknown to me, I can see you are a shallow unkind man. You are shrewd in business and life. You are rich because of all the people you used and walked on to get to where you are today. You would never put anyone else's needs before your own. You are selfish and ugly to me." Said the woman surprised at her own quick tongue.


"It must be the fairy heart that is allowing me to see his true self." She thought to herself.
She turned to walk away from Mr. Duboir, who was standing, stunned by her rejection. No sooner did she take a step than the next admirer, and then the next stopped her! They were all men, professing their sudden love for her. All men without beauty beneath their handsome faces, behind their telling eyes.

One man always lied and used people to get what he wanted. One man made promises he knew he would never keep. One man was violent. One man already had a wife and family at home.

The simple woman was beginning to wonder if the fairy's gift was more of a curse. She was now able to see the true nature of someone's heart just by looking in their eyes. It was beginning to make her deeply sad to know how corrupt humankind can be.
The woman then came upon the kind blind man who always sat in the summer sun, on the bench outside the market. She always liked seeing the blind man. On long summer days she would bring fresh lemonade into town and the two of them would just sit and talk for hours about all the things in life they found interesting or strange.

The woman was especially excited to talk to him today, seeing as it was definitely the most peculiar and interesting day she may have had in her life!

"Hello friend." Said the simple woman to the blind man; "You would not believe the day I have had!"


The simple woman told him the story about finding the tiny fairy with a broken wing, mending his wing, the gift of the smooth heart shaped seed the tiny fairy said was his heart, and then all the strange reactions of the townspeople.

"Because of my blindness, I cannot tell you if you look any different now than you always have," said the blind man to the simple woman, "but, I can tell you, to me, you are just as beautiful as you have always been. In fact, I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. That is why I have always loved you."

Surprised, the simple woman asked, "Why have you never told me this before?"
The blind man replied, "I have known I loved you for a long time, but I never thought a woman as wonderful as you deserved a man with limitations such as myself. I did not think I could be a good enough provider for you or a family. I enjoyed our time together so much. I have always been afraid I might scare you away."

The woman looked into the misty eyes of the blind man. Something happened. She suddenly realized she was looking at possibly the most beautiful human being she had ever laid eyes upon. Her heart began swelling with love.

"You are all I have ever needed or dreamed of." Said the woman to the blind man; "To prove my love to you I will break this spell that makes me more than the simple woman I know I am."
With this oath of true love, she reached into her pocket closest to her heart and pulled out the fairy's heart. She broke the smooth heart shaped seed in two and placed half of it into the blind man's hand.

'What is this?" asked the blind man.
"It is half of the fairy's heart." Replied the simple woman.
"By giving this to me, won't the spell be broken that gives you this new physical beauty and insight on the human heart?" the blind man asked, sounding a little confused.
"I don't need a spell to know you have a kind heart, I have always known that," said the woman, "and a physical beauty that will fade in time, is no matter to you, for I am already beautiful in your eyes. And you, my love, is all that matters." With that, the simple woman leaned over and softly kissed the lips of the blind man.

Right then, both halves of the broken fairy heart flew out of their hands and reconnected in the air above their heads. It began pulsating pure light. It was so bright; the simple woman was forced to shield her eyes. She then heard the fairy's voice booming from all directions.
"You have used my gift to you wisely and it has led you to your heart's desire." He said to the simple woman, "I am so touched by your selfless act to prove your love to this man I want to give you another gift."

There was a great flash of light and then silence. Somehow the simple woman knew the fairy was gone once again. She looked at the blind man and noticed he was blinking wildly.
"Are you all right?" asked the simple woman.
"My eyes are tingling." Said the blind man.

The simple woman placed her hands on each side of the blind man's face and looked
deeply into his eyes, trying to see if she could notice anything happening.


For the blind man it was like a thousand veils, stacked one on top of another, being lifted away one at a time.
When the veils were all lifted, and his eyes adjusted, he found himself looking at the most beautiful face he had ever known. The same face he looked at, and loved, every day for the rest of his life.

Malkamus (lyrics)

-DJL
Malkamus posts his messages to his daily online chat
While the Eels flow from the radio

The last time I saw her
She was crying
About something that mattered
then

I watch the cars go by through the window
I wonder how many of them will make it through the night

The last time I saw him
He was smiling
A broad and self-satisfied grin

I wonder if he will be smiling
When it all comes back to him?

I feel like I know what they are thinking
When they don’t look at me
Their silence screams
With insecurities
That ignorance creates.

Malkamus likes to drink his vodka to wash down his wine
She likes the messages he posts for her to wash down her life
And He just likes to pretend everything is all right

Dear Dolly........Love Mom (2004)

The call came in shortly after lunch. All the girls in the office decided to hit the new Indian restaurant that day and take an extended lunch hour. By the time she sat in her chair she was ready to go into a deep food coma, fat and happy and not interested in work. The day had been atypically sunny for that time of year and that put everyone in better spirits.
When she answered the phone she was smiling,

“Customer Service, how may I help you?”
-------------------
“Yes, this is she.”
-------------------
“What? When did it happen?”
-------------------
She hung up the phone.

Her head was spinning. She wished she had not picked up the phone. She felt like she should cry, but she was too stunned to do much of anything. She had to say the words in her head several times before she could say them out loud and only then could she really understand what they meant.

“Your mother passed away this morning. She had a massive stroke.” she whispered to herself

It was unbelievable, just a few hours before she had been swapping ‘crazy mother’ stories with her friends at lunch. She had never been really close to her mom; in fact some would say they were strangers. She could not remember the last time she even got a call or a card on her birthday. She had no idea she was even sick if she was sick at all.
Since her mom divorced her dad, moved out of state and started working at the grocery store fifteen years ago, she never really heard from her. If they talked at all it was because she made the effort, not her mother.

“I never really felt like she wanted me”, she explained to her best friend Jenny who sat in the cube next to her, “This is so surreal, I don’t even know if she has been ill for a long time or what, it has been at least a year since I called her last. I was just so pissed at her for missing my birthday again that I decided not to be the one to call her first this time! I feel like I should be crying, but I can’t.”
“It won’t hit you until you are there” Jenny said, “That is when it will be real, right now, in your head, she still lives in another state. What time is your flight?””
“It is at 7:00 this eve, and yes, you are probably right.” She said


When she arrived in front of her mother’s little apartment complex she took a long while to get out of the cab. She sat and looked at the old brick two story building and tried to imagine her mother coming home from work in her grocery smock walking up the flight of stairs to her apartment. She realized she had never seen the inside of this place and her mother had been living there for over ten years. The lawyer said the manager would let her in, and she just had to get the place sorted out.
The rent was paid through the end of the month and she had a list of all of the donation places around town so she could drop things off. She had rented a truck company to take whatever else she wanted back with her just to be safe. She figured she could just cancel it if there was not anything to salvage.
Her mother had always worked as grocery clerks, or at quickie mart type places, so she imagined all she would have left behind were obviously second hand furniture and maybe a few unpaid bills. Even her car was at least 15 years old, purchased right after the divorce with her father’s money she was sure. Her mother didn’t have anyone in her life. Her mother had always been a loner, so her daughter was all that was left.

“Is this the right place miss?” the cabbie turned and asked with a bewildered look on his face.
“Oh, yes, thank you”, she said and reached in her purse and handed him money, “Keep the change.”
“Thank you!” he said with a big smile, “Do you want me to wait here?”
“No, that will be all for today. Thanks!” she said weakly and got out of the car.
She had tipped him almost what the fare cost, but she tended to be that way when she was feeling guilty about something. It was as if she were trying to make up for something she didn’t do that she should have. She always joked with her friends that it was her ‘Guilt Tip” This thought made her smile a little.

She buzzed the manager and got the keys from him. He was a kindly old man with a bit of an accent. He looked down a lot and told her how he was so sorry for her loss and told her if there was anything he could do to help.... She thanked him and said not to worry, she was sure she had a handle on it.

She took a deep breath at the door way. She put the key in the lock and she turned it slowly. There was a click and the door pushed open.
Immediately after she stepped through the door she was overwhelmed by something. It was a scent, nothing foul, but more of a potpourri of cinnamon and apples and something else, something that can only be described as her mothers scent. It was unmistakable. That is when it happened; her eyes welled up and started to pour tears down her face. Her mother’s scent was all that was left because her mother was gone.

It took her a long time to compose herself, but once she did, she slowly started to walk through the apartment. It was a very small one bedroom unit with a kitchenette and a bathroom. Her mother kept it very clean.
Surprisingly everything was older, but it was in all very nice condition. You could tell her mother took great care of her home. She ran her fingers across the countertops and the fabric on the furniture, like she needed to touch everything her mother touched so she could feel closer to her somehow. She turned down the hall towards the bedroom that is when she saw them; the entire hall was lined with photos of her.
There they were, every school photo ever taken, every photo she had sent over the years in letters that her mother never responded to. She always figured she must have just tossed them out or something. She had no idea she actually looked at them much less framed them!

She could not believe her eyes. Her mother did think about her. But then that little seed of doubt crept in again.
“Knowing mom, she probably hung them up so when she had friends over she could talk about me and play mom of the year like she used to in the past, but this really means nothing. It is just for show!” She thought to herself, “Don’t try and make this woman something she is not just because she is dead now!”


The rest of the day was spent going through her stuff and making two piles, one for donation and one for taking home. There was an unbelievable amount of stuff to go through for such a small place. She had decided to hire a maid service to come finish cleaning the apartment after she got everything out. She didn’t think she would have enough time to do everything.

Once she got to the kitchen she opened a big drawer and it was packed full of papers. “This must be the junk drawer,” she smiled to herself, “We’ve all got them, even mom!”

She pulled the drawer out and walked into the now empty living room with it. She poured herself a glass of the wine she had found in the cupboard and sat down to sort through the papers.
There were bills, receipts, coupons and so on; all of the stuff one would think they might find in a junk drawer. Then she saw it, a pink sealed envelope with her name and address on it but no stamp.
She looked at the envelope in wonder, “What could this be? Why would mom write me a letter and then never send it?”
She was about to open it when her own name caught her eye again. She started rifling quickly through all of the papers and found at least seven sealed pieces of mail addressed to her that were never sent.
Confused, she gingerly opened the first pink envelope. It was a standard greeting card with a very flowery design that read “Happy Birthday Daughter!”
She could feel her face getting hot with tears, she opened the card. There was her mother’s handwriting and a check written to her for $50

My darling daughter,
I have been thinking about you a lot lately, but especially today since it is your birthday. I can’t believe you are already 25 years old! It seems only yesterday you were just the size of a peanut!
Anyway, I want you to know that I love you and I think about you all of the time. Take yourself out to a nice dinner or something on me!
Love you and miss you,
Mom

She read the lines over and over again. She was now 29 years old, her mom wrote this card over four years ago!
She sat for a long time trying to figure out why she didn’t mail it; she knew that all of the other envelopes were probably other missed birthdays and holidays over the last fifteen years. She didn’t know what to do.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hello?” she heard coming from the next room, “Is anyone here?”
It was the person assigned to her by the funeral home that was supposed to be able to help get all of the financial business in order.
“I’m back here.” She said, “Come in, the door is open.”

When he turned the corner he saw that she had been crying, but he seemed un-phased, not in a callous way, but in a way that you knew he has been through this scene a million times before. He is in the funeral business after all or at least a part of it. How are you holding up kid?” he asked in a way that she knew he didn’t really want to hear the answer.
“I’m fine. Ya know?” she said
“Yeah, these things are never fun.” He said and started shuffling papers, “Basically the reason I am here is because I have some papers for you to sign.”
He went on to explain that she would be given power of attorney so she could take care of all of her mothers bills and could use whatever money she had left in the bank account to make sure everything was paid off and then after taxes and funeral expenses she would get whatever was left.
“Also,” he added, “it seems your mom took out some extra life insurance, so if you sign here, we will find out what that is exactly and that way we can use that towards funeral expenses.”

She really only half paid attention to what he was saying, she just signed where he said to sign and did whatever she could to get him out of her hair as quickly as possible. That card had been like a slap in the face to her and the fact there were still more to be opened was more than she could really deal with at that moment.

She decided that she would take the remainder of the cards and stick them in her luggage, she was not ready to open them. The first one was already more than she could cope with.

By the time the apartment was empty, everything was donated and the funeral was over, she was ready to sleep for a week. She got on the plane and slept all five hours back home.

After having been home for about a week, she still had not opened the remainder of the letters, she hadn’t forgotten them she just didn’t know when the right time would be. It had all been so emotionally exhausting for her.
All of her mothers friends from work telling her stories at the funeral about how her mother talked about her all of the time. Stories about how her mother was so proud and how she would bring in photos to work whenever she would get new ones, it seemed her mother had relayed nearly every detail of her life as she sent them in letters. It baffled her why her mother never wrote back, or if she did, why she didn’t mail the letters.

Her phone rang while she was sitting at her desk at work, this time it was a lawyer hired by the funeral home people or something like that. They wanted to know how she would like the remainder of her mother’s estate dealt with. The lawyer said a lot of things that she really didn’t understand, until finally he said, “Well basically after all of the expenses and so on there is a considerable sum left over.”
“You know, I didn’t ask for this, just because I am her only living relative, now I owe all sorts of money!” she snapped, “This sucks, I am not rich, I didn’t ask for this!” she said again
Her stomach sunk, she saw this as the last kiss off by her mom, to die and leave her daughter in debt.
“No miss, you misunderstood me,” the lawyer said, “When I say sum, I mean, she left you a considerable sum.”
“What?” she asked, “What do you mean? How much?”
“Well by my calculations, after taxes, and the funeral expenses including my fees and the after all of her bills are paid up, you should be getting about $350,000!” He said with a tone in his voice that sounded like someone who was calling to say you just won the lottery.
She dropped the phone receiver.
“Hello?” she heard in a tiny voice from the floor, “Hello?”
She grabbed up the receiver, “There has to be some mistake, my mother worked at a grocery store, this isn’t right.”
“No, no mistake miss,” he said, “It seems that she had purchased extra life insurance, and she barely had any bills to speak of, she had considerable savings and she put quite a bit into her 401k. She has you as the beneficiary to everything.”
The more they talked and went over things, it turned out that almost every cent her mother got in the divorce settlement was invested wisely in retirement funds and savings. It seems she had set herself up to retire and be totally taken care of.
This divorce settlement was what started the rift in the first place. Her mother had taken her father to the cleaners and left her behind with him and no money, she was nearly grown so it didn’t matter so much, but it still bothered her. She couldn’t ever bring herself to forgive her mom for that.
Now it had all come back around.


It was three years to the day her mother died. She was sitting in the living room of her new house. She had just cracked a bottle of wine and there was a stack of letters sitting in front of her, three were already opened. She picked up the envelope she was going to open on this anniversary. She took a long drink from her glass and set it aside and took to opening it, it was a letter dated only a few months before her mother died.

Dear Dolly,
Do you remember when I used to call you that as a child? You were just like the cutest little doll. I loved your smell and your sweet little cheeks. You were my dolly.
I know you and I have not talked much this last few years, and I know some of that is my fault.
I really do love you and I am so proud of you, I only wish I had told you sooner, because now that we are both adults, it is so much harder to talk to you about this. I feel like we are strangers and I hate that. I really want to be a part of your life.
I guess I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk to me, I will always be here for you.
No matter what has happened between us, you will always be my Dolly.

Love you always,
Mom

Storytelling (lyrics)

-Belle & Sebastian

Picture a scene in your mind
Looks at all the people and take note of the setting behind
Listen, watch, and wait
A plot begins to take shape
There's a story
And then characters will come to you
Relating events as they choose to
But all their words and actions come entirely from you

If you're a storyteller you might think you're without responsibility
And you can lead your characters anywhere you want
You have immunity

Have you considered the way
People might react to all the things that your characters say?
And are their actions hand in hand with what you want to portay?
Are you sick?
Are you crippled? Insane?
Expressing the desires that dare not speak their name?
Are you the one to be blamed?

Now you're a storyteller you might think you are without responsability
But in directions, actions and words
Cause and effect
You need consistency

How can you finish the tale?
Lives which have played a part
Are summarised from the very start
And episodes left out to make it all go our way
"It's a might big world
Some of it I've seen
But mostly I've only heard
And stories are all fiction from their moment of birth"

You're just a storyteller
You're not trying to escape responsability
If we believe you then you're succesful
But you don't make claims of verity

Pandora's Box (2004)

He was the kind of guy that she knew would get her in trouble from the moment she first laid eyes on him. He smiled and kissed her cheek with a familiarity of an old friend. She was so unaccustomed to such forwardness it startled her.
She mumbled some joke about dancing as she tried to push her way past him in the crowed and their friendly hello was tripped into somewhat of an embrace and spin as they were trying to pass in such close quarters.
“I could only be so lucky,” he replied to her quip and pulled her closer than necessary and kissed her cheek again before letting her go.
With that he turned and walked away leaving her breathless.
“What just happened?” she asked herself as she stood there dumbly in the crowd with eyes unable to focus on anything but the back of his head walking away from her. It was like she was in some sort of trance, one that she found very difficult to pull herself out of long enough to return to reality and make it to her destination.

After that run-in she found his face creeping its way into her dreams, his name on the tip of her tongue, the forefront of her thoughts all day. She looked forward to the next chance meeting.
She had to make a real effort not to say his name accidentally. She knew that it would only lead to trouble, and really what right did she have anyway? He was married and so was she. She had no business thinking about him that way. It is not like anything had happened to put her under this spell. All there was, was that all too brief encounter, a one and a half minutes worth of conversation if that.
Was it the touch of his hand, the smell and warmth of his body, or the flirtatious kiss on the cheek? Or was she looking for, in him, something she felt was missing in her current situation that was all too difficult to face?

The next time she saw him at the bar he was sitting alone reading the paper. She stood in the doorway just hidden by the shadows and watched him for several minutes before deciding what to do.
“Should I leave right now? Should I turn around and pretend I never saw him, would that be the best thing for me to do?” she asked herself, “Or should I just walk in and pretend I didn’t see him and maybe he won’t notice me and we will just be in the same place at the same time with no one being the wiser? It isn’t like we are old friends or something!” she reasoned with herself, “In fact he probably doesn’t even remember me. He probably has not thought about me once since that time we ran into each other. I bet I could walk right by him and he would maybe find me slightly familiar and nothing more!”

It was final, she had convinced herself that, as usual, she has made a mountain out of a molehill and she was ready to take a breath, pull her courage about her and walk past him. He would not even recognize her, she would just walk by him, to the bar and he would not even look up from his paper. After all this is her head trip, not his, he is happily married and she is just one face in a sea of faces from a party that was ages ago!

She stepped from the shadows and started her journey from the door to the bar. The moment she thought she had cleared his eye line she heard her name. It was a voice that made her stop dead in her tracks. It was the voice that had been playing on a loop in her head for weeks.
She turned and he was standing, this surprised her, it was as if she could have faced him better had he been sitting, the fact he was standing in front of her made her feel suddenly small and weak. She thought she might faint.
She must have looked it because he asked, “Are you ok? You look a little pale. Would you like to sit down?”
She sat down in the empty chair opposite the one he had been sitting without even thinking. At that moment he could have suggested that she do just about anything and she probably would have.
“Hello?” he asked, he was now sitting across from her, “Would you like me to get you some water or something?”
She realized right then that she had not said a word; she had just walked in and sat down at his command. She didn’t know what to say, she knew she had to say something but in his presence, this close to the man who had been living in her head all of these weeks, she suddenly felt out of breath, without a voice, like if she opened her mouth words would not come out.
“Um... Sorry, I’m ok.” She squeaked she cleared her throat, “Water would be great, um, thank you.” She stammered.
She thought sending him across the room to get her water would buy her a few moments to compose herself and her thoughts.
He stood up and headed to the bar, she was happy to have a moment to herself. She thought of things she could say, excuses she could make to get out of there the moment he got back.
“Oh, I was just popping my head in, I am supposed to meet friends, but I think they are at the other bar.” is something she thought of saying, short and sweet and it would get her out of there.
When he came back he had a glass of water in one hand and a cold beer in the other he sat down and placed them both in front of her.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said,” I thought you might like a drink.”
She realized he still had a full drink on his side of the table so the beer was for her, that was her invitation to stay, that was her exit disappearing before her eyes.
“Not at all, thank you.” She said and smiled, put the beer to her lips and took a swig. She normally hated the taste of beer but at that moment it seemed good, like somewhere in her mind she knew that since he was drinking this beer, his lips at that moment tasted like the beer. It seemed somehow decadent and it gave her butterflies in her stomach and made her giggle and feel a bit more relaxed.
They proceeded with small talk she was surprised at the ease in which they spoke. She didn’t usually have such an easy time of it; it was hard for her to feel comfortable with strangers as she was a fairly shy person. Usually she listened more than she spoke in public. With him, like the first time they met, it was the feeling of being near an old friend.
What started out as a chat about the weather and music they liked turned quickly into the kinds of things two people would share on a third date if all of the previous dates had gone extremely well.
They sat and chatted well into the night. She was over her nervousness and she felt close to him, as odd as it might seem. She would catch herself gazing into his eyes when he would explain something that he felt passionate about; she delighted in seeing the fire there. She found herself giggling and flirting and touching his arm when she was trying to make a point, much like the way she used to touch her husband years ago when they were first married.
That was the one subject neither of them mentioned, neither of them mentioned the fact that they both wore rings on their fingers that symbolized the fact that they belong to someone else and that this conversation should have ended a long time ago.

“Last Call in ten minutes!” the bartender shouted
“Have we really been talking that long?” she asked him, “It doesn’t feel like it! Where did the time go?”

He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. She could feel the warmth of his hand and the metal of his ring, this startled her and brought her back to reality more than she would have liked at that moment.

“What are we doing?” she asked before she could stop the words from spilling out of her mouth
“Feeling something for a change,” he said in a very matter of fact tone, “I for one can say I have not felt anything in a long time until tonight and I have a sneaking suspicion you understand what I am talking about.”

All she could do was nod and turn her hand over so that her fingers were tangling with his. It was as if no one had ever touched her before. The heat she could feel between them made her feel like she would disappear into nothing and be absorbed into him.

“I have to go, this is wrong.” She said again surprised at her own involuntary words.
“Meet me here tomorrow.” He said

She pulled her hand away and stood up, “I can’t.” she insisted and died a little when she heard the words because she knew that meeting him is the only thing in the world she really wanted to be doing. She didn’t even want to leave right then.

“I will be here, I hope you come.” He said and made a motion like he was about to stand up, she knew if he did she could not stop herself any longer so she turned on her heal and hurried out the door before he could get to his feet.
She thought she heard him calling after her, but so much of their conversation was already swimming through her head, she could have imagined it.

By the time she got to bed that night her husband was already sleeping. She lay in bed listening to him breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she tried hard to concentrate on her breathing so he would not wake up to discover her crying. She didn’t know what she would say to him if he did.
Her mind was spinning like a top, everything from that evening flashing before her mind’s eye over and over again. She was analyzing every move, every expression every word.
If she slept at all it was a light sleep with heavy dreams replaying the night. She got out of bed the second the alarm went off and rushed off to work. She knew she had to get out before her husband woke up. She did nothing wrong, but she just could not face him.

Nothing is lonelier than having something eating you up inside and knowing that you can not share it with anyone around you. That is what the whole day was like.
She tried to concentrate on her work, but she kept coming back to the end of the evening. She knew she would meet him, she knew she was powerless to resist.

“Why is this happening to me?” she asked herself in the mirror while washing her hands in the ladies room at the office.
She had not realized she spoke out loud until she heard a voice form the stall, “What did you say?”
She rushed out before she had to face her questioner.

The night came and she got dressed and headed out to meet him. She had resolved that it was going to happen, so she may as well not fight it. She had an eerie calm about her. Like she had resigned to whatever will, be will be. Her feelings were mixed, part anticipation and part exhaustion, not only from the sleepless nights but the years without real heat or passion in her home life.

He was there when she walked in, sitting at the same table, drinking the same beer, but this time he wasn’t reading, he was watching the door.
“You came!” he said, “I knew you would!”

He stood up and gave her a hug. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her close. She was grateful he was holding on so tight because she thought she might have fallen over had he not. She squeezed him back like someone holding on for dear life.
When he finally released his embrace she grabbed the back of her chair and helped herself settle into it.

“I thought about you all day.” He said, “I know I shouldn’t, but I did.”
“I did to.” She admitted to him, “In fact I have not been able to stop thinking about you since we met.”
“I want to kiss you right now.” He said and he leaned forward towards her lips

She surprised herself by pulling away, “We can’t!” she said, “We are both married!”
It was like a trained reaction more than will power, she had always taken her wedding vows very seriously and they had never felt quite as tested as they did right then.
He was still leaning across the table so he was very close to her face when he said, “We shouldn’t, but I have never felt this sort of connection before, not even with my wife, do you think we really can deny this?”
It took all of her resolve to not lean forward the two inches and kiss his lips but she held steady, “No, we can’t, we made a promise.” And she put her hand on his cheek and looked in his eyes for a moment and then gently nudged him back to his side of the table.

They sat in silence for a long time, just looking at one another and playing with each others fingers, tangling them and untangling them.

Then something in her head clicked.

“I need to ask you something.” She said, “Do you think that we are feeling all of this passion because of some supernatural connection, or is it because we are both so starved for human touch we are inventing some grand passion in our minds and it has nothing to do with our hearts?”
“I am not sure I know where you are going with this.” He said, “I for one think there is something much bigger here going on between the two of us, I don’t really buy into supernatural connection business, but I do think that there is something very viable between us. A very real spark that I can’t say I have felt before even with my wife.”
His words stabbed her heart because she knew what he was saying felt true to her, but she could not let her guard down, not yet.
“Let me try and explain like this” she said and she stood up from her chair and stepped in front of him, “Now close your eyes and don’t move or say anything no mater what I do.”

He closed his eyes and she placed her hands gently on either side of his face. She leaned in very close to him and paused for a moment before she gently placed her lips on his and gave him a slow and soft lingering kiss. She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered, “Now does this feeling have anything to do with love, or is it all adrenaline caused by anticipation, loneliness and the unknown?”
She let go of his face and turned to walk away, he grabbed her wrist, “Wait. I know you feel it too.”
She pulled herself free and said over her shoulder, “I’m sorry. I have not felt anything in a very long time.” and started out the door.
She was surprised at her own resolve because inside her stomach was doing flip flops, every inch of her skin was tingling in anticipation of his next touch and her lips were burning to kiss him for real, but she knew if she started she would not be able to stop herself.
She knew that by giving in to her passion she would have changed her whole world and the worlds of all of other people around them, and for what; the fulfillment of a fantasy, the answer to a question that may not be worth it in the long run?
She knew the answers they were seeking would take doing things that cannot be undone and are not easily, if ever, forgiven; there was no room for error in this game.

She knew as she walked out the door, never looking back, that she wasn’t ready to open Pandora’s Box.
***********

(lyrics)
I would rather scream than hear the silence for one more day
If I can't get past it, I will build on it
The sky is the limit
There is no solace
in these creature comforts
and the broken promise still rings in my ears
Intuitive or not
you only need eyes to see this truth
Can't
Won't
and then it is back to you again
Do we take the dive when we are ready
Or will there always be someone there to pull us back in
I want to jump
You want to stay
You want to run
I want to sleep
It is a catastrophe waiting to happen
Is there no one willing to open this Pandora's box?
-DJL

Lyrics-Untitled Song

9/5/00 - Untitled Song
-DJL
Devoid of Common Law fear
Coffee makes the morning and the laws
Say we can’t make love
Unless we pay for the mistakes of
A bastard and her beau
Mothers beg children for silence
As children beg Fathers to break it
Why are clowns so frightening?
Meant for children
And nightmares
Man made demons live in
The fear of the unknown
Carbonation makes the bitters go down
Leaving the head swimming
With dreams of pink elephants
Wearing rose colored glasses
To only realize how to live
As Mr. Death is breathing down your neck
Promises made to life as bargaining chips
Are broken with the first sigh of relief
Smog filled eyes
Take a pull off that last cigarette
And ponder the things that used to mean so much
Do you remember the moment beauty died?