When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Friday, February 27, 2004
My latest MSN handle - Cordell. I love the Cranberries. They are poignant in a dark, gothic manner. Dolores O'Riordan. Uncanny resemblance to dolorous (i.e. causing, marked by, or expressing misery or grief), don't you think? The band's songs are so full of angst and suppression, exalting and glorifying death and departure from this mortal realm in a resigned way, laced with peace and acceptance.
Something inside me died. It means true. Something inside me did die. It's not a tear-jerking bawl-at-awake kinda death representative of the reluctance to let go of something that was once yours. Rather, it is a just is kinda death. Like switching off a brilliant incandescent lamp; like snuffing out a softly glowing candle flame. Truncated. Abruptly ended. Death.
bad.
I remember an incident long, long ago. Me, my mom, and a Nintendo game. I did something bad. I killed my Mom's interest in a game. Never did she touch the console again. Never. Not even after so many years.
Sometimes, like her, I feel something die inside me. Losing colour, losing life. Nothing left but a mesh of dead grey matter. How is it that someone can like something so much, yet lose all interest in it in an instant. What immense pressure and shock can tip the scale and push a person over the edge? Are feelings for another person governed by the same laws, and subjected to the same frailties?
