I sit here, on a post-Alanis Morissette-concert high! I spent the day singing all her songs that got me through the tough times. Letting her voice sooth my never-ending, quasi-pessimistic, quasi-irrational thoughts. Feeling free, finally, like it was the first time, albeit, all over again.
Alanis has to be my favorite artist, ever. Sure, there have been others who have moved me, but through her music, Alanis has touched a part of me that nothing else ever had. As if through her music, she became my spiritual adviser. Like the time I learned to shed the stereotypes I once held as truth, or the time I was finally able to encapsulate the anger and rage I had for my father, for not being a father.
Each time I go to an Alanis concert, I tell myself, “this time, it’ll be different”. That I will take the inspiration and do something with it, like move to California, just to start anew. Just for the hell of it. Just to free myself, of my Jersey comfort zone.
Until that time comes to pass, I’ve let her music move me to dream about leaving my comfort zone. Like a fluttering butterfly, here’s my attempt to flap my wings:
“The Hill Sitting Below the Sun”
Off
Journeying
On a road
Leading to a castle
On a hill
Sitting below the sun
And behind a tree.
Running to the moment
That is my tomorrow,
Fleeing the morbid monotony
Of my present,
Dodging the acidic downpour
Of my today.
Running to the moment
Racing never-ending thoughts
Of my past.
Running to the moment
Forgiving myself for the myriad of excuses,
Of my yesterday.
Must I hate myself
And my thoughts
Bringing me back to this place?
Where each breath I take
Is planned
And each singular moment in time
Is contrived
And each opportunity
Is already lost.
Where I am the black sheep
In a field of cottony-plush lambs,
Obeying orders,
Blindlessly,
Giving into the command of the supposed shepherd,
Cowardlessly
Anguishing not, over the skinning ahead,
Foolishly.
Trapped,
And without dreams to free them.
Lost,
And without souls to guide them.
Journeying,
On that road, to the castle,
On the hill, sitting below the sun.
Leaving everything behind.
Running to the moment,
Ready to create new realities
Where sunsets are adored,
And the hills lead to the heavens,
And the toasty castle warms the spirit.
Leaping into the winds,
With no safety net to catch my fall.
Transforming myself,
Into a version they’ll no longer recognize,
Into a version I’ve only dreamt of becoming,
Artistic and active,
Spontaneous and sensual,
Like the fluttering butterfly,
Tattooed on my wife’s back.