on your porch

i didn't blog yesterday... so i am cheating a blogging twice today. two totally separate subjects and thus two separate entries. the soundtrack is right here so you'll have to open our old friend the other tab - the music tab (which is funny because it's a pun... oh, nevermind)
----> the format - on your porch

since i'm not sure that everyone will get the first few stanzas of the song which are the lyrics that stick in my head all day while i'm back and forth from the hospital to see my dad.
"i was on your porch / the smoke sank into my skin / so i came inside to be with you / and we talked all night, / about everything we could imagine / cause come the morning i'll be gone / and as our eyes start to close, / i turn to you and i let you know, / that i love you
well my dad was sick / and my mom she cared for him / her love it nursed him back to life / and me i ran, / i couldnt even look at him, / for fear i'd have to say goodbye"


yeah, i know. yeah. i guess you'd have to have been there. just once.

if you were there you would know that a fire barrel on the porch surrounded by good friends is a place one should always go back to. you would know that the smell of campfire seeps into your pores and makes you look dirty but smell like a real man. that sort of thing really really appeals to me... yes i know i'm not a man but smelling of camping and earth makes me happy.

if you were there you would know that when you're always leaving to somewhere there are times when all you can do is try to fit everything in between the time the sun sets and when it rises again. you would understand that the words 'i love you' are unspoken because... well... it doesn't make you sound like a real man. that sort of thing really really appeals to me... yes i know i'm a girl and i should love feelings but being able to have them and not talk about them makes me happy.

if you were there you would know that when your parent is ill that there is a piece of you that can't possibly fathom it. there is a place inside yourself in which it seems inconceivable that things will ever change. there is real grief at becoming an adult and seeing your parents as people... fallible and simply people with mistakes and needs and real life experience not some glossed over version of archetypes that we create. you would understand that growing up and being strong because it's what makes you a better person for the sake of it makes you a real man. that sort of thing really really appeals to me... yes i know i'm not always grown up or strong but the idea that i could be a better person for the sake of it makes me happy.