Smoke

How many books have you burned?

Leaf by leaf, page by page
Throw this book away
All the sadness, all the rage
Throw this book away
Rip out the binding and tear the glue
All of the grief we never even knew
We had it all along
Now it’s smoke

All the things we’ve written in it
Never really happened
All the things we’ve written in it
Never really happened
All of the people come and gone
Never really lived
All the people come have gone
No one to forgive – smoke

We will never write a new one
There will not be a new one
Another one, another one

Here’s an evening dark with shame
Throw it on the fire
Here’s the time I took the blame
Throw it on the fire
Here’s the time we didn’t speak
It seemed for years and years
Here’s a secret
No one will ever know the reasons for the tears
They are smoke

Where do all the secrets live
They travel in the air
You can smell them when they burn
They travel
Those who say the past is not dead
Stop and smell the smoke
You keep on saying the past is not dead
Stop and smell the smoke
You keep saying the past is not even past
You keep saying …
We are smoke … smoke … smoke 

Before I get into this post, can I just say Holy Shit Look How Young Ben Folds Is In That Video.  It was 1997.  We all looked so young back then.  Anyway…

The Mr. and I were talking the other day about my childhood and the childhood of my friends.  Just how different our lives are than the one he he had growing up.  How ironic that we (my friends and I) all grew up separately in the same town, leading parallel lives and feeling totally alone.  This song was making me reflective about all the ‘books’ burned throughout my life.

I have had funny little reminders of my grandmother lately.  (Second picture, first vintage linen in lower right hand corner.  My Grandma had those sheets.)  Finding out about her death (none of the how or why, only that it happened), 11 months after the fact, by accident, on fucking Google no less has been…numbing.

You know I'm feeling shitty because there's not snarky thing to say here.

I had to make sure because it didn’t seem possible that this happened and no one in my family told me.  Above is my grandmother and my grandfather (d. 1988).  That’s when I was sure, when I saw their names next to each other.  It’s an indescribable feeling.  I went through all the expected emotions (rage, disbelief, rage, grief, rage, anger, rage) but now there is a serious disconnect in my heart.

Fun fact: my grandfather was cremated and interred in New Orleans; I think his ashes were washed away during Katrina.  No one seems to know.

All of the people come and gone
Never really lived
All the people come have gone
No one to forgive – smoke

There is a service in my hometown newspaper to receive a notice when someone’s name shows up in the obituary.  I thought about doing it for my family, but at this point, I don’t think there is a need.

We are smoke

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4 thoughts on “Smoke

  1. Pingback: Something creepy « chukichi

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