Wish You Were Here

Those of you that grew up on classic rock or “dad music” know the band Pink Floyd. I once remarked to an old friend that Pink Floyd was depressing stoner music, and he had to agree with me.

The Lyrics

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Blue skies from pain.

I had a horrid pain flare tonight. Nerve pain. The kind where you think you’re covered in spiders, you can barely type because your fingers are fudged together, and the spiders are all synchronously biting you? Yeah that kind.

As I huddled on my freebie blue couch, I thought of all the people I wished were there and what I wished I could see in them. While sitting in agony I began to sing the previously mentioned song quietly, to not disturb anyone. Then, I scribbled the following down in my journal. I could barely read the words.

Wish you were here…

  • your smiles
  • your intelligence
  • your people-sense
  • the way you love
  • how you care and how you show it
  • how you get excited over weird stuff
  • how deniably romantic you are
  • how undeniably hopeful you are
  • how you strive to be your best self even when the world tries to tear you down
  • how you love things that defy capitalism
  • how you do makeup badly or not at all
  • your steadfastness
  • your search for the truth
  • the principles that guide you
  • how your hair is always pretty
  • your work ethic
  • your tenacity
  • your faith, hope, and love

Wish you were here. I think I could tell the differences.

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