And you really didn't think it would happen
But it really is the end of the line
So I'm sorry that you've turned to driftwood
But you've been drifting for a long, long time
I realise that I haven't told several friends many things for a long time. and by this I mean MANY. MANY things a friend should know.
And normally, I'm cool with that. My friends tend to be the sort I can not talk to for light years, and then instantly snap back into place again the moment we reestablish connection.
But recently, I've been drifting, because I realised that while we're all changing, I seem to have done so at warp speed in the past 1.5 years, leaving a trail of, well, entrails behind.
All these marriages, engagements, babies, even brushes with death that don't include me in the equation. All that independence with people who are acquainted with the term in the true meaning. All this clawing all my life and finally I'm ready to stop for a little while. A few months at least. I'll still have to scratch around a little, but you know, just to keep the claws and the drive in shape.
Nobody is an island
Everyone had to go
Pillars turn to butter
Low is where your heart is
But your heart has to grow
Drifting under bridges
Never with the flow
I've long shouldered responsibility for myself and others. But now, I've leapfrogged into actually being comfortable with that. Comfortable with the fact that it's now my own idea to pay for everything, comfortable with the idea that hey, I can actually do this. Comfortable with the idea that I actually know where I'm going and considering my options on how to get there.
I'm comfortable with taking a look at myself with a critical eye and seeing that really, I can be quite a hellspawn at times.
and I realise some of my friends are falling behind. Years behind. and I can't do anything about it.
and I realise some aren't falling behind, but apart. It's funny how the same thing can result in two vastly different results when used on two different people with different backgrounds, mindsets, morals, values.
but I also realise that sometimes, I am some sort of floating island. and sometimes, I realise I'm not really an island. I'm driftwood. Driftwood saddened that my life has to go on, without the other little pieces of me. The pieces that made me who I am today, the pieces of me that made me in some way, whole. Reconstructable driftwood.
and yet I also realise, the quantity of good friends seems to diminish in exponential proportion as we get older. The ease of finding people just....doesn't happen. People start coming in few and far between, also because of the nature of our lives I guess. Maybe.
You're driftwood floating underwater
Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces
Just driftwood, hollow and of no use
Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you