youtube.com/watch?v=9SKFwtgUJHs
[b]This ain’t a song for the broken-hearted
No silent prayer for the faith-departed
And I ain’t gonna be just a face in the crowd
You’re gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud
It’s my life, it’s now or never
But I ain’t gonna live forever
I just want to live while I’m alive
(It’s my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said, “I did it my way”
I just wanna live while I’m alive
It’s my life[/b]
…
I heard that song years ago when I doubted my future very much, not being so much inspirational as depressing. About five years later, I had been in a constant state of anticipation of death and unspent energies. Coming upon a link to this song, I listened to it many times, creating even more melancholy than before. It renewed the dwelling impetus, always caught short, to do something drastic, before oblivion.
Since a recapitalization of hope soon after, I turned to unfocused gratitude, for years. And then consequentially, at the edge of death once again, declared myself a moral nihilist. The “I” that this song repeats again and again, once again had a place without shame, and like long before, without direction, now willfully so.
Then after the only attempt at self knowledge I have ever undergone. I once again checked back in with this song, tonight. Despite excess energies still being a problem, but less so, the song can no longer draw my mind forward, I only look backwards upon hearing it. I only see the “I”, the one I’m finally getting to know, back then and sympathize.
I’d like to tell him to run aimlessly until completely incapacitated by exhaustion and strain. Then when recovered, to walk, with his head always turned back, even if so as to step into the abyss, unaware.
Responsibilities haven’t accumulated for me over the years, maybe the “I” diminishes without or with or without an increase in outer obligations. My heart now knows how to better discriminate, it’s narrow, no longer as prone to being tossed about by unseen forces.