I know somebody and they cry for you.
They lie awake at night and dream of you.
I bet you never even know they do, but somebody’s crying.
I know somebody and they called your name.
A million times and still you never came.
They go on loving you just the same, I know that somebody’s trying.
So please, return the love you took from me.
Or please, let me know if it can’t be me, I know when,
Somebody’s lying, I know when somebody’s lying.
( Guitar Solo )
I know that somebody’s lying, I know that somebody’s lying.
Give me a sign and let me know we’re through.
If you don’t love me like I love you.
But if you cry at night the way I do I’ll know that somebody’s lying.
So please, return the love you took from me.
Or please, let me know if it can’t be me.
I know when somebody’s lying, I know when somebody’s lying.
Oh I, oh I……
Somebody’s Crying- Chris Isaak
It is a little past midnight I am wide awake. I am stationed in front of the computer where I share my thoughts, ideas and feelings about life. Simple stories about the things that I see and experience are transcribed here to be forever immortalized in my corner of cyberspace. Memories of the people, places and things that make my up my life are all fair game. All I see and all that I experience is considered and carved into bite size pieces of this and that. Some are fragments of fiction and others are figments of imagination about things that might have been or could be.
My heart is pounding or is it my head, I am not really sure anymore. Maybe because the two have been at war with each other, head and heart, heart and head. Each of them jockeying for position in a vain attempt to gain control of the direction of one man’s life. Passion drives me forward, pushing me out of my comfort zone and forcing me to move towards a future that I am unsure of. Uncertainty and opportunity dance around me while I cross a bridge that is burning.I can only go forward for the flames have already consumed the places where my feet once stood. There are no rest stops here, no oasis or refuge to be found. All that you can do is keep moving forward or risk falling into the pit below.
Sometimes I consider the merit of allowing myself to fall. I already dance in the flames perhaps I can also learn how to fly. The problem is that I haven’t a parachute so failure will come at a stiff price. The fall won’t kill me. I know it won’t because death would be too easy and that is not something I am allowed…easy that is. I do things the hard way. Sometimes I do it by choice because I wish to test myself and sometimes by mistake. I tell myself that next time I won’t let it happen like this.Next time I will be smarter about it and all I can do is wait to see if I hold fast to my promise.
iTunes is playing I Will Find You by Clannad. It is from Last of the Mohicans. Someone out there might remember that I made that promise to them and perhaps in time we shall see whether that comes to be.Head and heart wrestle over that one. Later on I will stare in the mirror and mark the new lines in my forehead and the places that hair once covered. The boy has grown into a man, at least physically. A navy blue tank top makes it easy to see that repeated visits to the gym are having the desired effect upon his upper body. This is good, but he is impatient and frustrated.
Impatient because the progress is slower than he would like. Frustrated because that which came easy is now far harder than it used to be. He feels like a contradiction. In many ways he is far more than he was and yet he is diminished and less than he should be. It remains to be be seen if this will remain as the epitaph that will be written or just a comment about a blip in time.
Posted via email from thejackb’s posterous
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