Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Hate me.

The goal of this site has always been as much about looking at how media plays into our lives, as with how much we simply enjoy it.

I adored my mother.  And for all the ways a poet and generally outcast soul suffers, my mother suffered as often for me, and wondered how come I could not fit, and just be happy.  She worried years of her life away, and it tortured me.  I wounded me in ways I couldn't come close to explaining without making it seem her fault, which it wasn't, nor was it anyone's fault.  A parent will worry as much or little as they are inclined.  A child will fall, and eventually learn to rise up.  It is the nature of life.  But before my mom saw me succeed in life, she fell into the gray mist of Alzheimer's disease.  For 10 years I watched her helplessly fade.  And in 2012 she passed.

As a poet I could give word to the sorrow I felt, and even the guilt.  But I couldn't explain the haunting guilt that had no words.  Until the song HATE ME by the band Blue October played on my play mix.  I had actually avoided it and had skipped it previously, due to the name, I thought it was black metal, hateful and angry.  But it wasn't.  When I listened I heard the truth that was burning in my heart but couldn't be expressed.  By the end of the song I was a puddle of tears.


I encourage you to click the link.  I did not embed it because I've experience technological struggles doing so before.  Apparently not only am I am outcast and poet I am a technophobe.

I miss my mother every day, even more with every day.  But this song allowed me to feel less pain, less guilt, and less sorrow.  And finally I can dream about her when I sleep without needing to always make all my wrongs right.

Life doesn't offer us a chance to meet the dead, or speak to them.  But I have hope in an afterlife.  But this is about my present life.  And I thank the band Blue October for their insight into my heart, without knowing who I was.

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