Bent Words

Bent Words

June 06, 2017

I miss my go to songs. I had like 3,000 or 11,000 songs -- or 450,000 as I'm terrible with numbers -- on my external hard drive. And they were categorized by mood.


Happy Country

Sad Country

Okayish New Country



Angry Rock



I could play all the sad songs and cry all the tears and write all the forlorn words. I could dance at midnight in my living room and pretend the whole world would love to see me on Dancing with the Stars. I could jam out to some angry rock to slap me out of my bad mood or conduct Beethoven's piano concertos with a hookah wand as though I had a clue what I was doing.

They were sometimes characterized by person as well.
I had songs for my mom, songs for my dad, songs for friends no longer in my life. I had songs for you, songs for me and songs which just hit the nail on the head. I had songs that ex lovers played for me in the height of our tenured time together, songs that perspective lovers sang to me, jams that remind me of the dirty, dingy good ol' days when all we needed was a case of Miller and a battered bar stool.

There were songs I could belt out of my car window, that I was nearly equal to. Songs that I sang in the shower or after a few cocktails on the boat. Songs and singers that just take me right back to another world entirely.

The Cult. The Cure.

And I have got to say that they do better than I ever could in painting a picture of a single moment of my life. Thank God I can say that. That I felt that way. So entirely. What a run!

So I beg of you... please don't forget the good run or the hot sun as we fought for its share. Don't let me be the only one raising a beer or tipping my mind toward those glory days. We may not have won the fight but we fought the battle with an unmatched passion that I don't mind recalling while the house is briefly empty. For what is life after all, if not a few great moments we get to play back in our hearts?

Now is the time when things begin to settle and life becomes the same with each passing day. We do the same things for the same people with the same set of cards laid out before us. Not much changes in a day but we know the progression with the change of the seasons, when we turn up the thermostat or replace the glass with screens. We watch it happen slowly but nearly overnight with the growth charts we've documented on closet doors, with the ache in our knees and the fading familiarity in the mirror before us. We're no longer invincible but paying the price for the choices we made years ago.

Little people get bigger. They outgrow the dresses and the jeans. Schoolwork and taxes, bedtimes and coffee pots, lawn mowers and weekend projects.

Life starts taking away more than it gives...

Beastie Boys

But back then things were different. The cards got shuffled regularly and we were dealt a new hand before we even knew how to really play the game. We weren't experts. We weren't always ready and we weren't predictable. We were full of fire and fight. "I dare you." "Watch this." "Come with me."

We tried to tempt fate and we wrestled with right and wrong with complacency and ease. "How bad could it be?" "What's next?" We begged the questions, pushed the limits, played as hard as we knew how and we took all the risks because nothing had ever felt more right.

Who could knock us down from our high towers?

Sinead O'Conner.

We weren't leading with logic, we were tumbling toward the next set of adventures given to us day by day.

It might seem silly now. How we thought it was going to end better, more brilliantly, despite all the road blocks presented to us. But we didn't see that because we were IN IT. All in, all out and all ready to run over whatever it was trying to hold us back. I marched up to my family with the stubborn assurance of a child who hasn't yet set a foot out of their family's front door. I told them how it was, how it was going to be and I never looked back. Not until the road started twisting and turning out of my view.


And then... how do you navigate blindly? How do you release your soul into someone else's control? How do you stop doing what you know is right and start doing something different, somewhere else? How do you stop the merry-go-round from turning when it's giving you the ride of your fucking life? How do you do you when you don't know who you are anymore? How do you go on when everything you've always wanted stops wanting you?

You tiptoe into the light one morning and you beg of life to stop trying to make you GUESS. Though you've never faltered, never given up, never stopped spinning or showing up despite the resistance; somehow it seems life has a different story to tell. And to read that story, the one that's not yours, it breaks your fucking heart.


Instead of making the lyrics up as you go, the story is being sung by a stranger. And now that's all you've got. The memories. The moments. The lyrics to a song that never cease their amazing ability to hit the fucking nail on the goddamn head. So you're sitting there -- still waiting -- after all these years, just hoping to hear the one song that rings more true than anything you could mutter in your own breath.

I remember.

Richard Marx

Just when I believed I couldn't ever want for more
This ever changing world pushes me through another door
I saw you smile
And my mind could not erase the beauty of your face
Just for awhile
Won't you let me shelter you

Hold on to the nights
Hold on to the memories
I wish that I could give you something more
That I could be yours

How do we explain something that took us by surprise
Promises in vain, love that is real but in disguise
What happens now
Do we break another rule
Let our lovers play the fool
I don't know how
To stop feeling this way

Hold on to the nights
Hold on to the memories
I wish that I could give you something more
That I could be yours

Well, I think that I've been true to everybody else but me
And the way I feel about you makes my heart long to be free
Every time I look into your eyes, I'm helplessly aware
That the someone I've been searching for is right there

Hold on to the nights
Hold on to the memories
I wish that I could give you more
Hold on to the nights

Written at 5:41 p.m.