Weightless Wings and Concrete Boots

BARCELONA

Jewel Kilcher

 

Barcelona,

Where the winds all blew,

The churches don’t have windows,

But the graveyards do.

Me and my shadow are

Wrestling again

Look out stranger,

There’s a dark cloud moving in.

But if you could hear

The voice in my heart

It would tell you

I’m afraid I am alone.

Won’t somebody please

Hold me, release me, show me

The meaning of mercy – let me loose

Fly—————–

Let me fly

Let me fly

Super paranoid

I’m blending, I’m blurring, I’m bleeding

Into the scenery

Loving someone else is always

So much easier

But I hold myself hostage

In the mirror

But if you could hear

The voice in my heart

It would tell you

I’m tired of feeling this way

God won’t you please

Hold me, release me, show me

The meaning of mercy – let me loose

Let me fly

Let me fly

And I won’t be held down,

I won’t be held back

I will lead with my faith.

The red light

Had been following me,

But don’t worry, Mother,

It’s no longer my

Gravity

Hold me, release me, show me,

The meaning of mercy.

Let me fly.

Let me fly.

Let me fly.

 

Digging oneself out of a rut, a bout of depression, is much like digging a tunnel through sand. Clawing out can sometimes seem impossible. I’ve gone through times when I really believed it was. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way.

The past few weeks, I’ve been going through a confusing myriad of emotions. There’s some anger, some fear, some resentment, some sadness, a lot of guilt, SO much guilt, GOD. So much of that. And a little bit of humility, because for three years, I have danced in the rain, not giving two sh!ts about Karma because I felt I deserved the time that I had put in.

Now, here’s how I used to do the math: as much time as I put into climbing the mountain, I should have to bask in the time at the top. Only now have I realized my mistake: The value of the time put in was so little, so terrible and unworthy of remembering that I work to suppress it in my own quiet ways every single day – and it does not match the time I am blessed to enjoy now.

To put it plainly, a lifetime in Hell is worth a moment in Heaven when you have faith that Heaven is that good.

And it is.

And for a while, I feel as if I’ve been neglecting it, taking it for granted. Making the same mistakes that were made against me. I remember how that felt – and it pains me to think that I might be inflicting that same pain against someone I love.

I have chains to carry. Three years ago, I set them down. Well, to be a little more honest, I flung them from my shoulders with great gusto and the most satisfied, shit-eating grin I could muster and danced on the pieces of the disaster I had made of his life. And you know, I don’t regret that. I know pride is a terrible thing, but I think Jesus still loves me and I’m pretty sure I saw Him turn the other cheek for just a moment that day.

But I left litter, and I have swept it under the rug for three years. I never forgot about it, and it’s not as if I’m going through this emotional turmoil right now because I’m surprised that this is happening to me. I didn’t stop being bipolar just because I fell in love. Marriage did not cure my mental illness. Not even my soul mate has the fix for these broken parts.

That’s something I need to work on by myself. I put that on the shelf for a while, and tried to push it back behind other things I felt I needed to address first.

I’m almost done with school. I hope to be finished with my degree next Spring. It will be the culmination of many years of hard work and perseverance, but it will be just the beginning of bigger and better things, I hope. I think that’s pretty important.

I’m filling compartments at work. I’m fitting myself into new positions and making myself useful in other ways at work. I am making myself necessary and important. I am making myself an asset, but it is becoming apparent to me that I am not getting the satisfaction from it that I had hoped for. I’m at a crossroads: I want to move up in the ranks, but I don’t want to lead them on. Turning tables is not my life’s ambition.

I’m not getting published. I’m getting a little discouraged. I have racked up sixteen rejection letters and I have yet to see anything of mine come to fruition. It makes me question my dream, and it makes me question my faith in who I thought I was.

I have no idea who I am right now. But this song, (introduced to me by my father, of all people, whose taste in music I trust unequivocally) featured on Jewel’s sophomore album Spirit has been on repeat in my head for the last week and it has helped me to quiet the squeaky gears.

xoxo – : )

Please support the artist at www.jeweljk.com

Please support the artist at http://www.jeweljk.com

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