Just another day bouncing ideas inside the mind of a person with split personality disorder. Progress by committee.
MIDIMike
Just another day bouncing ideas inside the mind of a person with split personality disorder. Progress by committee.
MIDIMike
I stole the main idea from my older brother David. After his 2nd stroke and 3rd seizure, he would often lament on how smart, strong and independent he used to be. He would say he always though he was a man of steel, but he just turned into a bucket of rust. We are all one fall, car accident or stroke away from having our entire lives turned around in a minute. None of us are prepared.
MIDIMike
Do you ever feel like you are creating your own problems and challenges? Like things might actually get better if you just stop trying and got out of the way? Now rush a year’s worth of those experiences into one really BAD day.
Often you won’t have a solution or even a clue. To find your way back, it takes two.
MIDIMike
While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
While not written from personal experience, the tragic loss and seemingly endless rush of memories becomes contagious. Unfortunately, we feel the duty to carry the burden of pain. We collect our own sadness and take it with us wherever we go. Sometimes, it is more painful to let go.
MIDIMike
I offered you all I am
As you demanded the bigger half
I tried to keep them together, but cried until I could not laugh.
We own no jewels or treasures
Beyond the memories we made.
Loving life and nature’s pleasures, but soon even those will fade.
Brilliant colors turn to gray
Precious moments gone.
It all grows now in anger, tormenting everyday.
Hard, still to believe
Please and a simple thank you
Became words you could not say, another way to deceive.
I’ve spent half my life
Fixing my mistakes,
And half of it living yours.
Evidently I don’t know
What it really takes
To heal the open sores.
Brilliant colors turn to gray
Precious moments gone.
Now they grow in anger
Tormenting everyday.
What I have left
Is half of nothing.
Neither yours nor mine.
Years of hard work
And nights in disagreement
Didn’t help the bottom line.
MIDIMike
This is a small collection of ideas, really. Some phrase or thought that I repeated over and over until I could get to a pen and some paper. (Back in the day!). Some of the verses flow and are just fun to say. Observations and my favorite past-time of stating the obvious are scattered here. No real theme that I can remember. Paying it forward. Waiting for a future song.
MIDIMike
Maybe this is a simple celebration of diversity. In all things. I could never understand why the Christian faithful spends so much energy hating the very things their perfect god created. My parents just didn’t let us grow up like that. We never saw differences a threat, but as life from a different point of view and perspective.
MIDIMike
Another glimpse of lost love. Or love lost. The one that got away. A constant dilemma: hold them too close and risk pushing them away. Not holding them lets them slip away before you know it. When you were together you knew what tortures you now; you can’t go back.
There is no one else and never will be.
MIDIMike
Shifting to a better job and position I moved to Indiana to supervise late shift at a metal plating and plastic molding company. I moved first and rented a small place for a few months to make sure it was going to work before bringing my first wife out.
Small town.
One stop sign.
No one is in a rush. Worse than ‘island time’. I am so used to doing 10 things at once and find myself in the middle of nowhere doing nothing!
Farmers grow summer crops and often rotate to a winter wheat. Some farmers plant potatoes late in the season. Out there I felt like a Late Potato.
No rush.