In a Funk

I’ve not been myself the past few days. Dunno why. I’m just really bored of my station in life–not unhappy, mind you…just bored. I get this way in winter. I thought I was going to get through this one without it, but here we are…I think it’s because it’s only now started to be consistently cold in St. Louis.

Every time I get this way, I start thinking about the people I’m really close to in my life. Sometimes that helps, sometimes it doesn’t. This time, it doesn’t. In the past year, most of my really close friends have either moved away or have in some other way fallen out of my typical sphere of contact. (“Sphere of contact?” God, I’m pretentious…) I’ve GOT friends and family I can rely on…just not anyone to call in the middle of the week and say, “hey, let’s go to a movie.” Used to. Don’t now. Most of my friends and I stay in touch via e-mail…and some not even that well. A lot of the folks who’ve moved off to other places now sort of see me as the guy they knew when they lived in St. Louis. I’m part of their old life…they’ve got new ones now with new people and new experiences, and I’m not really a part of any of that–as it SHOULD be, really. It shouldn’t bother me too much, I know that aesthetically. But aesthetics have nothing to do with the real world, do they? Sucks when you’re actually going THROUGH it.

In a way, though, I’m used to this. Everyone I’ve ever been really close to (and I don’t count most of my high school friends in this, as we were friends more because of geography than by choice) has come from somewhere else. In fact, even the few people I actually did stay in touch with from high school came from elsewhere in the country first. Then, just as people came in suddenly, they left just as suddenly. Largely, I blame that on college. That’s what college is, isn’t it? Intense relationships, split apart by jobs, families, and–often, in my case–the mission field. God forbid that anyone would choose to go to school in the place that they want to LIVE. That’s what I did. I was born in this town, and I’ll probably die in this town–unless I die on vacation. St. Louis born and raised…unlike my friends, who were just passing through. Most of my life, I’ve lived by the same credo: “First one here; last one here.” It’s only lately that it’s really started to suck.

I know, I know…there’s a diatribe here…

“Focus on the good things, Derek! Your church is doing
well. You’ve got your health. You’ve got regular musical work–which you love. You’ve got limitless potential for good things to happen.”

Yeah, but what good is all the wealth of the world if you have no one to share it with?

“Oh…well…maybe you could get a girlfriend.”

Ah…see the post to the right titled, “Love, Reign O’er Me.”

“Hmm…you’re just a miserable, negative, pessimistic bastard, aren’t you?”

What’s it to you? 🙂

“If I give you a dollar, will you go away?”

Yeah, alright.

So…don’t bother with that…been there.

I’m not entirely depressed or anything; don’t misread this. I’m just going through my typical, “Maybe I should make a change” stuff. I sort of want to move away–as always–to a place where no one knows me and I can repaint my life to be whatever I want it to be…but that takes money, time, and a desire to effect real change in one’s life…none of which are my strong-suits.

I’ll get over this…it’s just venting…and that’s why I have a blog.

Current Listening: Still Pink Floyd.

Current Reading: Still Nick Hornby

Current Viewing–gonna go home and watch “American Splendor” as soon as my work-day’s over.

Hello? Is There Anybody In There?

Know who’s great?

Pink Floyd.

Wish You Were Here
(Lyrics: WatersMusic: Waters, Gilmour)
(Copyright: Pink Floyd Music Publishers Ltd.)

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you trade
your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
a walk on part in the war
for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here.

…and then there’s some excellent guitar work by David Gilmour, who’s quite probably the best guitarist this world’s ever produced.

Current Listening: ^ That.