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Turn around bright eyes

Posted by Mick on June 9, 2010 – 12:25 am

It’s been a rough couple of days.  <Dramatic Pause> A button was pushed.

Oft times, a button is pushed deliberately.  This button, however, was pushed accidentally.  The person who pushed the button did not intentionally push the button.  They were completely unaware of the button’s existence.  After the fact, they were unaware a button had been pushed.

In case you missed the symbolism, I’m talking about my tortured psyche again.

It’s honestly no big deal.  Something was said, quite innocently.  Something that most likely would have had no effect at most times, but this time, for no immediately discernible reason, this time it strikes a nerve.  I’m not angry, my feelings are not hurt, I’m just sad.  Sad and paranoid.  In the space of 5 minutes I’ve turned this innocent comment into the first domino in a chain leading to my future despair.

Are we all on the same page?  At this point in the story, I am depressed because I think I’m going to be depressed in the future, the future that I have just made up.  It’s actually damned impressive when you think about it from a certain point of view.

As all of this is happening, there’s a part of me that is watching it happen.  It’s as if I have gained some superhuman ability to be an observer of my own insanity.  I’m aware of what’s going on, but powerless to stop it, as if my observer self was bound by some code of non-interference.  A sort of Psychoanalytical Prime Directive, if you will.

Still, this insight into what’s going to happen carries a certain benefit.  The awareness brings a certain comfort.  You see, I knew that I was going to be paranoid all night.  I knew I wouldn’t sleep well.  I knew I would be tired and cranky this morning, and still a bit stressed over my paranoia, but coming to the realization that it was silly.  As I was coming out of it, I would most likely resist attempts to feel better, avoiding certain pleasurable activities for fear they would break my depression, severing the final ties to my paranoid obsession, which doesn’t want to give up without a fight.  And then it would be over.  This too shall pass.

I knew all of this was going to happen, so there was no sense worrying about it.  I relaxed.  I didn’t get upset.  I maintained.

At or around 9pm this evening, I decided to sit down and write about it… because I’ve learned that that helps.  I turned on some music.  Nothing fit.  My Folk/Americana station is usually my go-to station for this type of thing, but tonight it was making an itch instead of scratching one.  The 70’s rock (think Rainbow, Scorpions, and UFO) was firing blanks.  Nothing worked.  In desperation I dug out one of the stations I had made when I was actively working on Mastodon/Dethklok.  The station for Gary.  Gary has a love of music that’s… flamboyant.  Less about genre, more about style.  It’s a hard station to program.  Queen.  Hedwig.  T-Rex.  Velvet Underground.  Jim Steinman.  Meatloaf.  New York Dolls.  For some reason that damn “Don’t Stop” song by Journey, but he doesn’t like to admit it.  Anyway…

The second song that came on was “Over at the Frankenstein Place”, from the Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack.  And just like that… everything was right with the world.

I have a love/hate relationship with show tunes.  I love everything about show tunes, except the fact that most of them are lame.  When someone takes the styles and conventions of the traditional Broadway musical and applies it to something a bit more genre, that’s something I can get excited about.  There’s nothing wrong with show tunes… as long as the show has balls.

But that’s not the point.  Yes, it’s a campy song that makes me want to put a newspaper on my head, flick my bic, and sing along… but it was so much more.  Have you ever paid attention to the lyrics?  Read them with me now.

In the velvet darkness,
Of the blackest night,
Burning bright,
There’s a guiding star.
No matter what or who you are.

There’s a light
Over at the Frankenstein place.
There’s a light
Burning in the fireplace.
There’s a light, light
In the darkness of everybody’s life.

The darkness must go down the river of night’s dreaming.
Flow morphia slow, let the sun and light come streaming
Into my life… Into my life.

There’s a light
Over at the Frankenstein place.
There’s a light
Burning in the fireplace.
There’s a light, a light
In the darkness of everybody’s life.

There is a light in the darkness of everybody’s life.  We could have a long philosophical discussion about the source of that light, and perhaps we will at some point, but not tonight.  No matter from where that light springs, it can reveal itself in the strangest of places.  It can be found in a sunset.  It can be found on a forest trail.  And it can be found over at the Frankenstein Place. Thank you, Richard O’Brien.

We all have our buttons.  Those buttons are just waiting to be pushed.  Think about that.  The little button, just waiting.  Growing frustrated.  Resentful.  Is it any wonder that when he’s finally pushed, he strikes with a vengeance?  We can’t always avoid pushing someone’s buttons.  And they can’t always avoid pushing ours.

And now the love-fest is wearing off.  I can feel a rant coming on about the ass-clown who pushes my buttons on purpose.  As satisfying as that might be, I didn’t sleep well last night.  It’s time to see if I can get it right tonight.  One last dose of Jim Steinman, as Bonnie Tyler explains that she’s living in a powder keg.

And giving off sparks..

Be good to each other.

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