October Surprise--Day one of...something.

 

10/1/23 11:25 AM

The surprise, of course, is that there is an October at all. I was prepared for the window to be closed and for the proprietor to say, "Sorry, we're fresh out of months." Lucky me, they still had a couple left. Yay.

So, in an attempt to make this month more productive and worthwhile, I am going to take my friend Emery up on a songwriting challenge, outlined here. So without any further ado, here is the challenge for today, Oct 1, 2023:

Day 1

Take a speed lyric writing test. Write as many lyrics as possible about a particular topic during the allotted time. Focus on quantity rather than quality of lyrics. 

Here goes...

 

There's no time like the present,

But sometimes, there's just no time.

Or the timing is all wrong, 

Like a cut flower, waiting for a vase too long.

 

Leap ahead or fall behind,

Get your ass back to the grind,

If you don't seek, you'll never find,

So, eat the fruit down to the rind.

 

Trying to find the perfect balance, 

Is easy if you're talking about proteins, carbs and fat,

Or how long to pet the cat, 

Not for the monstrous choices of life and all of that.

"Life must have meaning, and this is your responsibility,"

My therapist told me confidently.

"My approach is different," I say and proceed to quote from

The World According to Me.

So, what's it going to take to get me through this day?

What can I do to make the cravings go away?

Will my feelings return, or have they left me forever?

Trying to be clever, my tendons I severed,

This endeavor, this attempted return to splendor,

Has left me wondering,

If I didn't just dream up the whole concept in the first place.

 

I'm an idealist who's run out of ideals,

I've followed my philosophy's thread to the end--and it's dead.

And now I see, these were all just ideas in my head.

Given a chance to prove themselves, they will evaporate, no doubt,

And I'll be standing on my soapbox with my mouth open,

Finger in the air and....

Nothing.

 

Surprise! The onion has no center, and so life,

Also has no creamy filling, just air.

I find this unfair, but honestly, I just...can't...care.

Wasting away, day after day like some un-refrigerated  dairy product,

Barely making it to my "use by" date.

I sound upset, cynical, depressed,

And you might have guessed,

Although it's not urgent or acute,

It's chronic, at best,

And at its worst, it's just as it seems...this is just me, in all my glory.

This bundle of stuff that I walk around and call myself,

This hope chest of forgotten dreams,

Will it ever open to the light of day?

Will I take a breath of life and leave the darkness of my cave?

Or, like a wave, tied to the tide, am I a slave,

To gravitational forces above my pay grade?

I'm hoping to open the box marked October and find,

A life for me inside, complete with fabulous prizes.

Dear Lord, I want to believe, 

Not in You, necessarily, although it would be only right, 

Since you've believed in me since day one,

But in Something. Something like Love. 

Only it's not on the menu, 

They don't serve that here. 

Didn't I read the sign? 

 

The signs are all around me:

The decrepitude of this shell I drag around,

The ever creeping perimeter of limitations, 

The arc settling into a dive,

Life's trajectory 

Always lands one in the cemetery, buried half-alive.

Over the hills and far away, 

I'll ride there on my bike someday.

Just pedal, for once, with no timeline of return,

No halfway point to be of concern,

Full speed onward,

Who cares if I get lost or make it home, 

This is life's adventure, and it seems it's never done.

OK, of this, I am not proud. It doesn't rhyme, except where I'm just being gratuitous. I hate being a slave to meter, although when I listen to songs, I really appreciate those who can work within it. Also, I don't believe I really stuck to a topic, I just kind of meandered around a sentiment. I am spending a "therapist's hour" on this exercise, so 50 mins. And.....done. For now.