Hello all,
we have had a gorgeous few days,
here in the Spring infused,
beautiful ugly.
Today, it is raining,
and,
gray and I,
just finished working out,
to classic disco,
which floods my brain with energy,
and,
my mind with memories.
I hear the first bars of,
Tina Charles' I love to love,
and,
I am right back in,
the hot, sticky, city Summer,
of childhood,
dancing with my cousin Josee,
having fun, giggling,
good times.
I hear Boogie Oogie Oogie and,
I remember this girl,
who,
I had the biggest crush on,
sigh, memory lane.
Some times the associations,
between music and memories,
make no sense,
the chronology doesn't fit,
why does Raspberry Beret,
remind me of my friend,
Helene,
it came out in 1985,
and, we met in 1988.
could it be because,
it's kind of the only,
Prince song she likes
:-)
Weird associations.
I can't stand U2.
To me,
Bono,
is a stinking rich bourgeois,
with a God complex,
but,
Sunday, Bloody Sunday?
before, the fame,
before the glory,
raw and feeling,
I still love that,
it still makes me rise,
to dance,
when I hear,
the first bars,
I am 17 again.
Music is personal,
and,
along with smells,
is most evocative of the past.
Our past, our memories,
ours.
Shared with people we,
love, like,
or,
who through,
school, job, circumstance,
happen to be on our path.
I realize,
and this isn't the first time, this has come up.
Some people,
think,
I overshare,
that I use my blog,
and,
my face book pages,
to send messages
...
the truth is,
I sometimes do.
My blog,
from the very beginning,
has been,
a persona for me,
a part sharing,
what I think,
what I love,
what makes me crazy.
A soapbox,
a therapist's couch,
it is a voice,
my voice.
My life,
what it is,
what I wish it would be.
I don't really talk to people,
I know,
through it,
but,
I do wrestle,
with issues,
that challenge me,
on a personal level,
and often they involve,
others.
I don't name names aside from,
giving thanks to those who,
are there for me, or recounting,
amusing anecdotes.
One of the reasons,
I don't edit a lot,
and try to let,
unvarnished emotion,
come through,
is that it is,
a bit of a road map,
record of my life,
my progress,
and,
slippage.
I understand if that makes,
people,
uncomfortable,
angry,
even.
It isn't my intention.
I also think,
others,
might see their struggles and joys,
through mine.
Do I over share?
Perhaps.
I adjust and work at it.
I see my blog as a reflection,
of my moods and process.
I will say, this:
my life, my feelings,
my emotions and thoughts,
belong to me,
and if I chose to share them,
that is up to me.
It goes without saying,
that you are free to read them,
or not.
I have been through,
a rough few years,
also, those years,
have been full of fun and growth,
I chose to share, lots of it.
I am an adult, I live with and deal,
with,
the results of my decisions,
kindnesses and 'pettinesses',
For better for worse.
This isn't about settling scores,
or burning bridges,
they are my stories,
or perhaps, more appropriately,
my story
the one I know,
and,
learn from,
the one I,
know how to share,
that is all.
Be well,
you all.
Later girls,
BB
Author: Bookish Butch
I am a bookish butch in my mid early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream
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