On The Move

Hello, folks! I am back after what I realized was a long extended blog break. I haven't been idle these past months as I have been hard at work and other stuff, but it still feels a bit strange to be getting back to the blog game. To that end, I thought I should tackle one of the most dangerous moments for any writer: the long hiatus. 

I've known bloggers who hit their stride, were interrupted for one reason or another; and then days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and they were never able to get back in the saddle. All that work was squandered. As September draws to a close, I find myself experiencing a bit of the end of summer blues. It seems to make my mind feel leaden and that's when I need to get back into the rythm, warming up the engines and start typing out again.

From (a lot of) time to (very much) time, I hear songs and watch videos that lift my spirit, inspire me and calm my soul. I warn you that I am a hard nut to crack and there's nothing that had made my guts churn lately, but I saw this video and I felt it needed to be shared with you all because it drags up too many of my current feelings.


This track is included in the album La Petite Mort by British alternative rock band James, launched last June. The record's title comes from its overall themes of death and release, having been written following the death of lead singer Tim Booth's mother as well as the death of his best friend. The weird fact is that this French idiom is an euphemism for the post-orgasmic state. I guess these guys have no idea about the real meaning, hehe.

 

This short film not only tells us a story about death, but also about farewells and the fear of loneliness. Nevertheless, I don't wanna talk about the most obvious elements of the story's setting. I wanna talk about isolation and clinging to something/someone that was hurting us. 

I find it very hard to let people go, rebuilding my life without them, and getting rid of routines, places, songs and moments. Old loves and friends remain vivid in my memory no matter how distant I seem to be. I'm not able to forget them and they often return to my mind. Then, I feel like I have no control over those mistakes, bad words and slights in the past. But I forgive them and I want them to return to my life. Nothing would be like before, that's true; they'd be still part of me though.