(reposted from my flickr page)
Day 262 of 365: a year in songs and photos
#18 in the Queens of the Stone Age Discography Thing
Song: QOTSA, Song For The Deaf
Subtitled: tuesday morning, contemplating
When I take these morning photos, I’m usually doing my own version of meditating. I relax, breathe, focus on the photo and rid my mind of everything else. I clear my head so I can better face the day.
I got lost in train of thought while I sat there in the wet grass at 5:30 am, staring at some weeds lined up against the back wall of the house.
I spend a lot of time telling myself to let things go, to be the better person and not make confrontations when those confrontations will only lead to more. I’ve always been known as the peacemaker, the one who will put aside her own feelings and needs if it just means making everyone happy and avoiding a battle. That’s not always a good thing. Sometimes one needs to speak up instead of bowing down.
I have also spent a good deal of my thinking time the past two years or so telling myself that I would not let anyone treat me or speak to me in a manner that I do not deserve. One of my mantras of those years has been "you get what you tolerate," and I decided at some point to no longer tolerate being spoken to or treated in a way that is demeaning, demoralizing or condescending.
This morning I had to try to reconcile those two thoughts. I feel the need for confrontation. I have allowed myself to tolerate these behaviors for a few months now in order to be the better person and not make waves where too many waves already exist. So what do I do? Do I confront or do I sit back and hope that this change taking place today will alleviate some of the problem?
I actually struggled with this all night. I composed in my head what I would say to her; I was careful to speak from the "I" and to not sound mean or accusatory. I worded it in such a way that I wasn’t being harsh about it, I was merely explaining why I have been harboring animosity and how the simple act yesterday of slapping me down when it was completely unecessary and, in fact, the opposite was called for, made me sad instead of the usual anger this person’s antics make me feel.
So I’m sitting there this morning and 5:30 turns to almost six and I’m still staring at these weeds wondering how to frame them and it dawns on me.
A song for the deaf.
Even if I did confront, what would be the use of explaining my feelings and emotions to a person who would not even hear it? A person who has never heard a word I said and instead talks over me, and everyone else? What’s the point?
Well, the point is, I said I wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. So do I confront just for me, just to get it out of my system, knowing it’s going to fall on deaf ears, or do I just go about my day and my life, and hope that the change in environment today will help dissipate my lingering bad feelings?
Song for the Deaf: youtube.com/watch?v=Ipe-PH6CBa0
I just realized I used this song in the QOTSA series already. Oh well, there are probably a few songs I’ll do more than once. That’s what’s nice about having a project that is all your own. You make the rules.
And I can just say what I said about it before:
This song is brutal both lyrically and musically and I use that word in the best way possible. The vocals are done by both Mark Lanegan and Josh Homme, and at some point Nick Oliveri is in there, too.
Nobody’s coming down the hall
Nobody echoes in my head
Broken reflection outta luck
Nobody ever needed it
I got what was
I want to take what’s left
Ready now
Beautiful senses are gone
Canary in a gilded cage
Singin
Sweet, soft, and low
I will poison you all
Come closer, racing to your tongue
I got what was
I want to take what’s left
No talk will cure
What’s lost, or save what’s left
For the deaf
The blind can go get fucked
Lie beside the ditch
This halo round my neck
Has torn out every stictch
Who are you hiding
Is it safe for the deaf
Beautiful cancer
Infiltrate and forget
I saw you coming
I heard not a thing
A mistake not to listen
When I knew where you’d been
And I got what was
I want to take what’s left
No talk will cure
What’s lost, or save what’s left
For the deaf






