To you, beloved
I guess Depeche Mode by the talent or whim of Martin L.Gore (hopefully unrelated to that Demo guy) has already said all I wanted to tell you, so I am going to use it as the basis for my text to you.
"Words like violence
Break the silence"
Am I invading your thoughts? Asking you to say the unsaid? The unsayable? You are just floating and fantasizing and violence keeps bringing you backdown to earth, tainting your soul with punching words...
"Come crashing in
Into my little world"
Who are we but little man who think themselves Big? You came along when I was not ready, you didn't say a word but your eyes did. You spoke none of my flaws, you revelled in my companionship, even though I had nothing to say. You saw me bigger than I really was, than I really am.
"Painful to me
Pierce right through me"
The words are stuck in there. and you feel them lies when they come out. no, a gag is not a blindfold. But who cares? your tender lips and caressing hands do not have to talk to my needy hips and neck, do they?
"Can´t you understand
Oh my little girl"
I guess she couldn't. Or I couldn't. So far.
"All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm"
Do I have to describe it? Put it in a frame of concepts that are going to crystalize and die out as soon as they are born? You transcend any definition, you are estrangement, discomfort that makes one try harder. You do not demand anything and in doing that, by letting free and easy, you got me self-arrested. I didn't have to say anything to you or anybody else who will think it not cathartic enough, because in the act of praising the wordlessness, I get wordy...
"Vows are spoken
To be broken"
I guess this is just the dialectics of life, the lesson. The promise brings in it, two-facedly, its potentiality to be broken, its will to be so.
"Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
So does the pain"
Not that we should no longer talk. This is not an apologia to going back to nature and grumbling. But it is a sign that what we have is bigger than any discourse, than any materiality, it is also spiritual, and don't take me as a methaphysicist. For what gives me spasms of happiness is what can give me spasms of pain, and who consciously and willingly would sign up for the pain?
"Words are meaningless
What is a good memory for? Don't I remember only what I see and don't I see it differently from you? A smile and a kiss, a hug and the smell, don't they give us much more to be remembered?
I won't repeat the chorus. Since I am not sure any of what I said is what I wanted to say. Guess I have just cast myself to rethink and rewrite everything. Maybe all I have just written was not what I had written and maybe I have been changing this text for such a long time I could rewrite it, and the meaning, the real meaning would not come. You are a riddle, and so am I. Who isn't? But I have been learning so much. Want to know what I really feel? Come here and I show you. Put your hands on the table and let me do the rest.
"Enjoy the silence..."
You, me... everyone!
And embrace it. Not all the time, not at all.