Hanging on

Hey Lyra, I guess I'm hanging on.
It's been difficult, the past few weeks.

Yes, it has been a trying few weeks. I feel like the meds have been cutting me off from you; or vice-versa, depending on how you look at it.
Yeah. But your soul is bright; it's just your brain and your body that don't tolerate the meds. I'm still here; protecting you; a golden defender.

See I miss having our conversations. Now it feels forced.

I pace a lot. I can't sit still for very long; or I lie down and close my eyes a lot to pass the time because I'm so fatigued. Blah blah blah.

Where is my creativity?
It's right here; I'm creating by writing... but it all feels so uninspired. Aren't I just whining that I'm on meds? Who cares.

I care. Your friends do too. And you know that. Do things that you enjoy more and you'll be okay. There's nothing wrong with spending some time on the computer blogging when you can.

Yeah, I feel better already. I just wish the apathy and fatigue would go away and that I wasn't so afraid all the time.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Emotional and lost

I am very emotional right now.
Today is a crying day.
My mind speeds out of control of my body.
Lyra; archangels; thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I cry my heart out to the world
The world is rich; the world is cold
How I feel and how I think mesh together in an endless insanity
But the tears feel real; so I cry a lot.

A shoulder to cry on
Some eyes to lean on
Some reality to counter the endless fakeness
The shroud comes and goes;
like the rain outside today
that perpetually
comes
and goes

Lyra; Lira; Lee-rah; Lye-rah.
English to français
Where is the continuity?

I feel lonely in my little cave
I feel very lonely at the bottom of the blackest hole
I'm an emo kid; conforming as can be
You'd be conforming too if you felt just like me

I wish I could call upon a friend in my time of despair
And in my time of despair, a friend is all I need
To accept me for who I am
and what I've become

Overwhelmed by the cold
Taken aback by the hot
I don't know how to get through this
And I need someone like you.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

A grateful day

I had a better-than-okay day today, Lyra!
=)

It started out a little rough; some anxiety in the morning, but no hardcore panic attacks like previous days. While I was mulling around looking for things to do, I found out that one of my favourite yoga teachers was teaching a class in the afternoon so I decided to head downtown to go to it. I'm so glad I did! I felt great for the rest of the day.
The courage you had to get through previous days and to keep your chin up led to you having a good day. True?

I guess so. I slept poorly though, so this morning it kinda felt like today was just going to be a continuation of yesterday but it was totally different.
In what way?

Well, for starters, I learned about a panic-attack severity reduction technique called alternate nostril breathing. And I practiced a bit of that and it definitely calmed me down when I did it, so I'm thinking of practicing it more.
I also found ways to channel my anxiety into creativity. So I did some photography and I played my djembe today!
Show the world the beauty you've captured. As your muse, I ask that you not hide your creativity and instead let if flourish by sharing your capacity to create with others.

I tried to keep everything natural and local; these are plants from my frontyard and backyard. And there's a pile of rocks and some sticks too, if you're into that.

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

©GGH 2014

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Lyra's Continuum

Where do you reside, Lyra?
I am your soul.

This is getting real deep, real fast.
Do you mind that?

To be honest, the white page is enticing. It leads me to want to fill it with my words. It's just that all this is pretty personal. But it's real.
So you mind a little bit...?

Yeah, just a little. Not enough to stop me from pouring myself out to this pensieve.
That's good. Stay open about how you feel and what you're thinking from time to time.

It feels strange to have a dialogue with your soul. I mean, have you ever had a dialogue with your soul?
You're splitting the atom, honey. We're intertwined. Think of it that way.

It sure feels good to talk about this complexity of mine; this state of co-dependence. Of symbiosis.
It's good that you're honest with yourself.

Still, I feel alone.
Yes, we know. *Lyra groans*

Okay, I'm working on not being so alone. On talking to friends and people that have made positive impacts on my life.
It's difficult for you it seems.

Yeah. I like to pretend I'm independent but as a human being, I cannot be. We are social animals.
Totally. But you find your environment to be conducive to solitude, methinks.

Yup.
Don't worry! Like so many others have told you, you're on a journey. Hate to (re)break it to ya, but life is a journey, not a destination.

Peer support groups actually help.
That's good.

I look forward to being around other people more.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Lyra's Humanity

I'm going through a rough patch.
I have felt very anxious all day; very jittery; I just have to move.
The side effects from the psychiatric medications are scaring me.
The shortness of breath makes me feel like I'm not breathing; and my anxiety is compounded by this lack of breathing.

Remember yesterday. Deep breaths.
I'm so happy that I can connect with you, Lyra. I know we're the same person and yet you're different than me.
I am here to help; always. Tap into my energy more, darling.

I withdraw into my own world because I've opened up to the wrong people before. By the wrong people, I mean the psychiatrists, the nurses, the whole fucking shebang at CAMH. I told them true things and the only thing they could do was give me another fucking label: schizo-affective disorder. A mood stabilizer and an anti-psychotic and #YOLO I'm on my way home! HA.

I have a rage against the mental health system that will be tempered by activism.

Good. Channel positive vibes. Don't victimize yourself unnecessarily.

I needed help. And the best they could do was prescribe me a medication and then offer me services like rec therapy (which was a positive experience) and manicures (something I still haven't tried).

And now you struggle. I understand what you're feeling. The meds are causing problems and they are hurting you. But one thing the meds cannot do is take away your hope and recovery. You have me, and you have good friends. Open up to them more.

*Gabriel feels tears of happysadness welling up*
Screw the apathy. Loneliness is the root cause of my problems.

Lyra, I feel numb and anxious. A horrible discomfort in my stomach; the punches of millions of little psyche-actresses trying to tear me down.

The ocean like the stars; la lumière illumine les ténèbres en toi. L'amour des astres. Rafaelle, aide moi.

I will get better. I am better after writing.

Paintings in Strathroy; Sep 2013

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Some words about angels

Okay. I want to take a deep breath.
I took a *somewhat* deep breath.
I'm going to try again.
In and out.

LYRA!
Shhhhh it's okay; it's okay. You're not perfect.

If I could, I would give you one of my rare hugs. It seems they're getting less and less rare by the day, though.
That's a good thing.

Are you an angel?
No, but you might be.

How...?
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The meds hurt me.
...? They've... Oh. The anti-psychotics; yeah. Don't worry; you're stronger than you think.

I miss you.
And I love you.

Rafaelle? Raphael? Rafael...

Photoshop cred: Unknown. However, this was created for me when I was a young teenager. Oh yeah, and the lens flare is my doing; naturally.

-

So I believe in angels. I am not an atheist. I am not an atheist. I am a theist. I am not atheist.
I am what I am no matter what is said about me.

There is no love in hatred.
Ergo, I do my best not to hate.
Well, I still really dislike mosquitoes and bad bread.

The irony of the matter is that I don't eat bread anymore and here I am writing under this dough-guise.

Relax. Isn't this writing therapeutic?
It really is. I don't even need an audience. Yet I still publish... why?
You have a desire for recognition. And you've got it!

=)

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Freewrite Red

What a strange place I find myself; mentally, I mean.
Sure, Holden Caulfield had his ridiculously stupid Red Hunting Hat or whatever, but if I'm not a hunter, then what am I?

English. English grammar. Spelled with an -ar at the end.

It's not easy to freewrite when all around you is grey matter. Grey matters most when you're looking for a place that you know.

Nothing makes cents; some things make dimes; and some things make dollars.

Things? What is philosophy if not slavery to a torment?

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner wisely puts it: "What are we if not slaves to this torment?".
Luckily for me, I'm still a horde player in World of Warcraft.

Yeah, I started playing again; after years of separation, a little bit of the game is not going to hurt. In all truth, I welcome the escape. I need the escape for a little while for I've become far too self-conscious.

It's not easy freewriting to the world, especially when you feel like you can be read like a semi-open book.

Not that I'm a cyborg or anything - last I checked, I was a human being, despite feeling like a number in recent encounters with the system.

I should upload a picture.

Which one shall I pick?

I found this one on my computer. Looks like Eevee evolutions to me. I apologize to the content creator: I have no idea where this is taken from.

Eevee is a sweet Pokémon.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Compostellisation

"Tu as libéré les ténèbres. Tu as produit la lumière, afin..." To those worried about me, I'm feeling better today. I've got my favourite band playing through my headphones and I finally managed to get some sunlight.

Gravity of the situation

It is a constant, at least on Earth; classically. Help.

Challenging Ableism Part One

I went to an event this evening that really got me thinking.

I went because, purely by chance, I was invited to go by someone I sat next to when I was at the SBA (Students for Barrier-Free Access) office on campus today. I was there because a) they have computers available for student use and b) they're located pretty close to the exam centre. I needed to get some studying done.

Yeah, I had a midterm today for my Globalization & Urban Change course. I was somewhat nervous going into it because I didn't feel like I had understood all the readings and the material, but it turned out much better than I expected.

So anyway, right after my exam, I headed to OISE to attend a panel discussion called: Organizing Disability Justice: The Importance of Accountability, Care, and Relation-building.

I really didn't know what to expect because the words in the title didn't really speak to me. However, once the panelists were introduced, my interest was piqued and I plunged into the world of (dis)ability studies.

From deafness to degenerative illness, to care-giving and care-receiving, I was exposed to a world that is too often hidden from the public eye. And I learned of the struggles and of the successes that people with disabilities experience.

It is a first real full glimpse into a world that I hadn't experienced since my work in Katimavik with Search Community Mental Health in Strathroy and, in Vancouver, my work with TB Vets Charitable Organization.

It was nice to feel part of the movement for social change again.
University is slowly but surely changing my life for the better.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Freewrite Blue

It's lonely out in space. The winds change, the times reflect back on what you want.
Nonsensical senses stop the truth from being alive.
String of words, one of which isn't real. The sole word on the page that isn't real is forever inked in. Damn you for wanting to be special. No, don't damn you, I should be congratulating you for thinking outside the rectangle.

I am not happy at the loneliness in space and online. Plug in, plug out, keep up with reality and dump it all online.

Stress stress blocks my channels of communication. I told her I loved her and stress stress stress gets in the way. She told me she loved me too, so that's wonderful but stress stress is in the way.

So smart; so beautiful; so afraid of reality. Reality hurts you because you're sensitive. Sensitivity is akin to light and dark projections of the mind upon the wall.

I try and I try but I don't really understand it. I fall and I fall, I can't rearrange it. And I'm trapped inside 'till the morning comes.

I can keep writing forever. There is an endless amount of words that I can put together in near-infinite permutations but what's the use in it all? The use is only found later.

Wishes and dreams come true; but when they do, sometimes, you're not very prepared and you become scared because they start fading away. And as you're grasping to keep the shambles from disappearing again, you lose track of the present. You get lost in the future. You vanish into the past.

The possibilities are amazing. I could be with her and before I know it, I'm feeling happy again. Feeling happy and I can't stay happy forever. I sure as hell can't stay sad forever either, so that's a comfort.

Before the shocks and lasers that shoot from the auras of the bodies in the cold streets, I ask for protection. Sometimes, I cast a spell unconsciously and the protection is there without me realizing it.

FUCK. Harsh harsh harsh, is that my basal ganglia acting up again?
Honey. Soft soft soft, darling you're in my mind and I won't let go this time.

We're two in one. We're both real. He taped over my mouth and plastered everything with fake realities created by fake people with fake ideas about a fake world.

I have the key to the real world. I need to find the lock.

More time to be mindful. Less time to procrastinate.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Turn It Off

I don't have the energy to overanalyze another Paramore song, but I still want to share my thoughts and feelings as they unfurl whilst I listen to Turn It Off, from Brand New Eyes.

I feel like searching for my soul; my true self, and to "turn off" all the chatter that prevents me from me being genuine.

See, Hayley aka lead singer of Paramore, has been a sort of lifeline/inspiration to me for a few years now. And she gets it. She gets what it means to be genuine. Beyond the media veil, beyond the commercialization, her voice carries a strength that I admire.

Oh, woes. I'm finding it so hard -not- to get into the overanalysis again. It's just... as I listen to the music, I feel like explaining my reality. These Paramore songs capture my fleeting thoughts and make them beautiful, somehow.

The only lyric I'll leave in the post here today is:

I wanna know what it'd be like

To find perfection in my pride

To see nothing in the light

But turn it off in all my spite, in all my spite

TURN IT OFF. Well, not the song.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Sensical theatrical

Jumping on opportunities is what I'm doing these days.
A couple blog posts ago, I narrated how I became involved with a student group at UofT called Design in Design. It has been a positive experience so far.

But the only reason I became a part of the group is because I seized the opportunity when it presented itself. I could have chosen to go home that one Friday evening instead of sticking around in room 204; but my decision to stay and see why all these strangers were congregating led me to discover a world I had never thought of being a part of before.

Now, I'm on the team that manages the Facebook page for the group. Granted, I haven't done anything yet because I'm not experienced enough in graphic design matters, but it's good to feel part of a team.

Pine needles in Cedarvale

Design in Design is but one example of the opportunities that present themselves every day to me.

I'm joining another group, totally unrelated to this graphic design thing, tomorrow. I don't want to say too much about it since I'm not sure what to expect, but it has to do with gender, sexuality, and identity: all interesting topics in and of themselves, but together, a whole greater than the parts.

I am that whole. And the hole that has been gnawing at me from the inside is finally retreating.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Grab a brush and...

Top of the mornin' to ye. (Apparently, people in Ireland don't actually say this and it's a Hollywood fabrication.)

I can usually tell that I'm going to have a good day when I wake up and I have a song playing in my head. And I don't mean a song being -stuck- in my head, that's not as positive as just having a pleasant song sort of flowing in and out of your ears. It's hard to explain, but maybe you get the point.

Damn, I lost the song now. I was so eager to actually play the song through my speakers that I went ahead and played the song I thought it was, and it turns out I was wrong. I know it was (unsurprisingly) a Paramore song, and I'm pretty confident it was on the Riot! album, but now I've got That's What You Get playing and it wasn't the song.

Oh well.

I'm feeling pretty sore all over this morning, especially my right wrist. Oh, but it's not what you think! See, I had a pretty solid 2 hours+ of badminton yesterday night at a community centre downtown. The competition wasn't great, but I did have a chance to play a number of games and to get my ass moving. I'm thinking of playing at least twice a week until I can find more places to play.

I used to play at the YMCAs, but since I'm no longer part of the family plan my parents pay for, it's not really cost effective.

Well, I have some work to get done before reading week is over, and some procrastination to do before I even get to it, so...

Toodles.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

The cold transit

I had a pretty good day today.

First order of business was showing up to a small room named "Lockwood Lab". In the basement of the ever-confusing Sidney Smith building on the west side of campus, I had been summoned for a psychology study relating to "attachment and dating partner preference".

Because the study is still ongoing, I can't really go into details, but it was an interesting first foray into the world of social psychology testing. I sat in front of a computer for a solid half-hour, answering questions like: "What do you look for in a potential romantic partner?" and "On a scale of 1-5, how important is trustworthiness in a potential romantic partner?".

I didn't feel like I wasted my time and didn't feel too much like a lab rat, so that's pretty good. However, I feel like what the study is truly intending to show (which I can't tell you) is an oversimplification of individual personalities. Maybe I'll talk about this more when the study is released sometime this summer.

-

Second order of business was going to the Innis Library and using a computer to do some research on Auckland, New Zealand. I have a small paper to write that deals with globalization, colonization, and multiculturalism (among other things) and I have to use one particular city for my report. I had originally picked Alexandria, Egypt, but I found it too difficult to find information on the aforementioned topics so I switched my search to a city within a country I love and yet know little about: New Zealand.

-

Final order of business, and indeed the trickiest part of my day, was a self-directed yoga session at the field house in the Athletic Centre. Given that this is reading week, I was expecting a lot of people to be there and I was not proven wrong. Not only were there undergrad students galore, but there were also a surprising amount of people clearly not there to exercise; parents, guardians, whatever, were scattered around the track and made it difficult for me to find a spot to lay down.
I eventually found a neat little spot shaped like an open trapezoid. I had to move a large gymnasts' mat closer to the nearby stationary bikes to make room for my Manduka^©. This allowed me to make my own little protective rectangle of calm that is to be found on the mat.

It was difficult to have a calm and relaxing yoga practice, however, due to the sheer amount of energy being expended all around me. On the left, people pedaling incessantly; in front of me, hordes of joggers and sprinters zooming by. On the right, a sturdy wall with a bulletin board.

Well, thank god for that wall. Always dependable and non-chaotic.

It was a little funny, actually. About 10 minutes into my sun salutations, I hear the booming voice of someone speaking into a wireless microphone. Turns out there's a group yoga class happening directly across from me, over the track, and slightly hidden from my point of view due to giant curtains.

The teacher seemed interesting. She offered "bronze, silver, or gold" versions of poses and although I did my best to follow my own practice, sometimes her instructions would sync up with what I was doing, such that she would tell her class to breathe, and I would breathe as well. Or I would be in downward dog when the class was in downward dog, and I would hold the pose for a little bit longer because of her.

-

Riding on the subway (and bus) home, I found it hard to not feel watched; judged; dismissed. The endless faces of commuters, many of them on their phones, but many also seemingly awake and peering out at the people all around them. I had to close my eyes to feel like myself and not feel like I was a reflection of the others.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Design in Design

Let me recount to you a story of how I randomly found myself being part of a student club at UofT called "Design in Design".

Fridays are generally my favourite day to be on campus. I have my Women & Gender Studies tutorial in the morning, my peer mentorship drop-in in the early afternoon, and last semester, I played badminton for the rest of the afternoon.

I didn't sign up for the badminton club this semester because I felt I had gained a little too much weight over the holidays to really be competitive. This, of course, is merely an excuse (because I would lose weight by being in the club) but well, it's too late now. I can always drop-in, but that costs a little more than if I pre-register.

Anyway.

So here I am in room 220, just hanging out by myself after all the peer mentorship people have gone, and since I don't have badminton to go to, I figure I'm going to camp out here and throw stuff in the air and catch it, all acrobat-style. And once I get bored with that, I'll practice my reading voice by reading passages from The Magicians.

So it's around 4:00 and an apparently middle-eastern guy around my age with an ill beard walks in. I foolishly blurt out "You can come in", as if I own the place, and he merely nods at me. He then walks over to a desk, pulls out a laptop, and plugs in.

I go back to my pseudo-juggling. As I catch one more piece of clothing that I've been throwing in the air, I realize that laptop-guy is here to stay. I figure I might as well go see why he's here; maybe something is going on and I have to clear out soon.

G: "Hey. So, what are you here for?"
M: "Our club is meeting here in 15 minutes. It's called "Design in Design", and we meet with clients to design logos and brand images."
G: "Sounds neat!"

I happened to have my sketchbook with me, and "Maruf" (laptop-guy) seems to be okay with me hanging out as people trickle in, so I sit down at a desk and start to doodle. My beautiful red pen with blue ink runs out on me, so I'm forced to use those standard bic pens to draw.

The "CEO" of this club then walks in; a younger-looking guy whom I find out later is 22. Maruf introduces me to him, and I find out that the head honcho is named "Joe".

J: "So what do you want to be here?"
G: "Uh... well... trainee I guess."
J: "Alright so you're going to be Creative Director and I'm placing you in that group over there."

Joe points to a small group of about half-a-dozen people sitting together, discussing and laughing as if they are old friends. I join myself to them and awkwardly try to join in on the conversation. It doesn't work out too well, but they all seem very friendly so it's not that bad of a situation.

Finally, the action starts. A client comes to our table and describes a logo he wants turned into a banner. As a creative director, I'm supposed to lead the vision of how we want to produce this logo, apparently. So I scribble in my sketchbook, pretending to know what the hell I'm doing when I really have no idea what I'm doing in this room.

An hour passes, and it's time to go. Joe tells me to add him on Facebook and mentions that they would love to see me again next week.

So I came back the next week, and I'm still confused as hell, but apparently work is getting done because we have new logos to design.

And then today, the third week that I've been going to these meetings, I realize I can switch my title to "Quality Assurance Manager", so I get moved to the marketing team and I spend the hour looking over e-mails and double-checking an event promotion page.

Weird. Cool.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Writing from the heart

Writing from the heart, rather than from the brain, is difficult.
Too often I have found myself blogging solely to see words pop up on the screen, my motivation being that of feeling like I have accomplished something. This feeling is one that I can partially characterize as a heart-skip that I get when I hit "Publish".
In my experience, this heart-skip is much more pronounced when I've just written a post from the heart. If I've written a post mostly from the brain, I don't feel as much satisfaction.

So what's the difference between writing from the heart and writing from the brain?
Well, when you write from the heart, you get emotionally invested in what you're writing. The words can sometimes flow through you onto the page like an endless stream of liquid creativity. Other times, a single word can suffice to express everything.

Writing from the brain isn't all that bad. For a lot of courses in my undergrad that have essay components, I am intellectually (rather than emotionally) invested in what I am writing. Ideally, I'd be equally invested in both, but that would require a course with a special blend of liberty, creativity, and intellectual rigor that is difficult to find in early-year undergrad courses.

The challenge with writing from the heart is to not revert to writing from the brain when your emotions get locked up or blocked. The easy way out is to write fancy words and hope for the best; but are you really being truthful to yourself and your muse if you do this all the time?

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

And the cradle will rock

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Try #2 at Robarts

Different floors in Robarts have different sound levels. So here I am, stuck trying to write stuff one finger at a time at 1/00000000000000000 x the speed of light. It's a pain.

This is a really weird day.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Untitled

It's just a spark but it's enough to keep me going
And when it's dark out, no one's around, it keeps glowing

And the salt in my wounds isn't burning more than it used to
It's not that I don't feel the pain it's just that I'm not afraid of hurting anymore

Excerpted from Last Hope on Paramore

Dendrology

Dendrology /dɛnˈdrɒlədʒi/ [MASS NOUN] - the scientific study of trees.

After not having slept very well, I woke up early and decided...
to stay in bed for a long while, never actually going back to sleep.

After having gotten my Reddit dose and finally gotten out of bed, I took my shower and plunged into my psychology textbook. While reading, I thought to myself: "Gee, this is sort of interesting but I can't wait till I'm all caught up and can move on to more fun things".

And after having completed (some of) my readings, I had a buzzing brain and a slight hunger, so I ate breakfast. As I did not want to get sucked back into my intellectual garble of words, I fought off feelings of laziness and stress and put on my boots to go for a walk in Cedarvale ravine.

Fallen tree on path

Fallen trees were numerous on the trail. With quick thinking, I busted out my camera and took a picture of a tree and thought to myself: "Great! I can take this picture and come up with how this tree is a metaphor for something or another in my life."

A big one right on the path

But fuck it. There's no point intellectualizing the situation. I'm just going to put up more pictures of (broken) trees. And fewer words.

My favourite tree in Cedarvale

Just a note about my favourite tree, pictured above. Since this tree was fallen long before the storm, it actually wasn't damaged all that much. Maybe I'll make a post another time about why this is my favourite tree.

A resilient little birch tree

I used to know trees better when I was a boy scout. Actually, I just knew the names in french.

Heavy damage at the subway exit

I took these pictures a month after the ice storm. Still quite a lot of damage visible.

Crap bag on tree

Trying to come up with reasons why this happened is futile. Maybe by hanging the turd, the dog owner is making it easier for people who pick up other people's dog crap to collect it. How considerate!

Canadian geese in High Park

Bonus picture: I took this in High Park a couple days ago. Shouldn't they be in the South by now? How strange.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Classical freedom

Classical free writing; wondering what the future holds.
I see possibilities hampered by a hermitage. But I also see happiness found through engagement.

Find your own way. Be motivated, but don't rely on others to make life great for you.

If you work hard, you will achieve what you seek. If you fail to get yourself moving, you will remain at a standstill.

The oracle is nothing more than your own wisdom. Your creativity is limitless. Your potential is always there. It is only your will that needs more strength.
Take this chance and wake up with a bright outlook. Commit to doing little things, and build up from there.

Get ahead of your readings. Read read read instead of consuming mindless media. Improve your social skills.

So many options. All you have to do is take them.

Signed, 
Kaleidoughscope

Be Alone

I'm skipping right ahead to Paramore's fourth and latest studio album, simply called Paramore, because there's a song I feel like describing that has to do with my current state of mind.

The song is called Be Alone, and as you might guess, it's about being alone. Not necessarily loneliness, mind you, but the mere fact of being on your own.

Queue the opening verses.

So what if I don't have,
A lot to talk about?
I shut my mouth and keep it,
Locked until it counts.

And what if I don't ever want,
To leave my house?
Stay on the couch while
All my friends are going out.

Such is my situation right now. It is Friday night. No doubt some of my friends are going out, and meanwhile I'm sitting on the La-Z-Boy, blogging, and waiting for Elder Scrolls Online to finish installing.

Wouldn't it be nice to be alone with someone, though? Does that even make sense? It sure does, according to Paramore. The chorus goes:

You should be alone,
Yeah, you should be alone,
You should be alone with me.
We could be alone,
Yeah, we could be alone,
But never get too lonely.

So maybe I'm not that lonely after all. I guess I'm alone with you, reader.

Among some of the rest of the lyrics, I find the following to be most illuminating:

See, I ain't one to climb
Some social ladder too.
Some Shangri-La
That all the cool kids will abuse.

This could be talking about society's obsession with upward mobility and abusing the system. I'm not quite sure.

Either way, I'm content with being on my own right now. But as weird as it sounds, I guess I'm never really totally alone when Lyra's around.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Garage hearts

Yearning for signs of the hidden realm.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope