Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Ears and fingers

Every day, at some point, I take a minute to dwell on how lucky I am.

Sometimes I see blind people or people in wheelchairs and it overwhelms me that I was lucky enough to be born with all my faculties and functions. Albeit with an absolutely f***d up brain.

I'm terrified about losing my hearing and I'm terrified that one day I might accidently chop off my fingers when I'm trying to cook like a professional chef and dice the onions really quickly. Or that I'll lose them in another way that is perhaps more likely. Jam them in the car door or get them eaten by a German Shepherd. The dog, that is, not an actual German Shepherd. Or maybe have a terrible fall and break them beyond the point of repair.

There are two things that I do regularly that completely liberate me from my crazy thoughts. Two things that allow me to lose all the attachments I have to worldly concerns and really feel complete. Writing songs and dancing. They are also the only two things in life that I know I can do well. But you can't do them if you can't hear or if you haven't got any fingers. Well, you could write songs, I suppose, but not on a guitar or a piano. Anyway, the point is that I'm so frickin' lucky.

I also look at my friends and my family and just get blown away by how amazing they all are. If my friends are reading this, some of you may have caught me staring at you from time to time. That's not because I secretly fancy you. Or because I'm thinking of ways to kill you. It's because I appreciate you absolutely and I can't get my head around it. The staring is a by-product of not being able to comprehend it. You're all very special and I can't imagine what I've done to deserve such brilliant people in my life.

Every time I walk down the stairs I hope I don't fall. Sometimes the fear that I will stops me walking down the stairs for a minute or two until I can get myself together. And when the people I love walk away from me I have this crippling fear that I might not see them again. When I write songs and play guitar, I don't worry like that. And when I dance I don't think like that. There's an obvious solution to my crazy head woes, here. Go through life dancing and not walking down stairs or going near those crazy German Shepherds.

Eve, my colleague and friend, who is beautiful and gorgeous and has very quickly learned that she can tell me when I'm being a knob, told me the other day that I was an 'I love you slut'. I say it often to many people, and she's right. But I can honestly say that I don't take those words for granted. I love the people in my life very much and I will tell them when I am compelled to. I will tell people when they're being a dickhead, too, but mostly I just find things to love in people.

I'm not sure there is a moral or a point in this post. Maybe just a therapeutic admission of the way I think. And I don't know how to end it. So I'm just going to go now and not say anything else except I love you all. Especially my one follower and the person who is reading my blog from Iraq.



  1. I think thats my dad saying that, but I accidentally kept myself logged in on his computer? I don't think I made myself. Although I could have been artifically made as an experiment. That would explain all the constant malfunction in my brain. Stop now, Lucy.