Sunday, 21 February 2016

Melancolie du Changement

There is a reason we like the music we do,
There is a reason we read the books we do,
They are the handles, by which we hold onto,
Strings better left to fray.

Melancolie du Changement ripping through,
Every illusion of permanence,
Kick, run, fight-you will never outweigh,
Specks of dust in cosmic sand.

Old vinyl records scratched with nostalgia,
Envelopes that now feed vermin,
Yellow pages, watery eyes,
Are but futile in eternal time.

Should a Tennyson implore,
'That which we are, we are!'
Or a Robin Williams say,
'Gather ye rosebuds while ye may!'

Embrace every moment for time flies,
Trough the slipping summer,
Through the harsh winter,
But it stays in the summer within.

/* I can't even start on the inevitability of change. It is going to happen , yet we cling to the familiar. Like a comforting summer in the middle of winter. This is not an uncommon euphemism on this blog, and it refers to porcupine tree and Albert Camus at the same time ( yeah, that's some combination) . But that is perhaps the only answer to change. Time flies, and the best that you can do is take whatever comes to you , cherish it and then let it go. If we weren't specks of dust in cosmic sand, perhaps the summers would last for ever, but that is not the case. All we can do is make good memories and let them guide us through the unfamiliar, unpredictable future.If you've had to say goodbye to good friends you know what I mean (and that's why I wrote this ). Dans les profondeurs de l'hiver je l'ai trouvé un été invincible as Camus should say .... that summer within , that's where time stands still. */

/*Also finally, a recording of trains . Hit the souncloud link below to get the summers metaphor better . */

Here's an acoustic guitar slinging , dreamily crooning John Mayer telling you basically the same thing.