sat 5 july 08

 

a mish-mosh today, suspension of regular business. can't get too predictable. doesn't everyone who writes songs HAVE to write at least one corny love song? isn't that a rule or something? anyway, this is mine. from 1995. i am about to emend the title, which has always been Serenade for ---, and then a certain person's name. to hell with all that. i'm emending the title. in spite of myself, i'm rather fond of the music for this one. nihil est: all fondnesses are forfeit now, thanks to DMH and company. and what other language is it that appears with the english here? same as the title of this post. why should i tell, anyway. can't you just ask the computer to translate it and tell you what language it is?

 

Serenade --- (copyright 2008 by aisling)

 

Only stars,

these points of fire.

Feel no loss, know no desire.

Only light

through endless night,

traveling free, sailing far.

But if a soul can reach and fly,

if souls can spiral high,

then I will  go with

stars that journey over oceans,

stars that hover over time.

 

i ngra leat i gconai

i gra san oiche, faoi bhron

an uaigneas mor, an ghealach chiuin

is na suile speir i mo chroi

 

Only love,

this silent flame,

burns every loss, knows longing's name.

Lonely you, out under stars,

wandering away, drifting far.

But if a love can reach and fly,

if love can spiral high,

then I will meet you in

stars that journey over oceans,

stars that hover over time.

 

i ngra, i gconai

i ngra, faoi bhron

an uaigneas, an ghealach

is na suile speir i do chroi

 

okay, mish-mosh, tick-tock. oh ya. here's something i'm fond of from frank mccourt's ANGELA'S ASHES (all fondnesses are forfeit now). there are many, many turns of phrase that i love in that book, but here's only one. frank has gone to confession over something ridiculous because his grandmother made him, and she's standing outside the confessional trying to eavesdrop. the priest chuckles during this ridiculous confession. frank exits, and there's grandma. she wants to know if the priest was laughing, and if frank was telling jokes. goes a lot like this, the grandma: if tis a thing i ever hear you tellin jokes to jesuits, i'll tear the bloody kidneys outa ye. isn't that rich, tear the bloody kidneys outa ye. I love, love, love that.

 

cruelly and wrongly done, the countless lies from the DMH, CSS , phony police chief, animal control officer, and the whole rest of the cast. cruelly and wrongly done, sitting back and allowing my whole life to be taken away, making a bum out of me, making a funeral out of me. cruelly and wrongly done, surveilling me and running psych tests on me in public places without my consent. cruelly and wrongly done, disappearing my family, lying to me repeatedly about where they were, never arranging for me to visit them, allowing me to suffer and suffer over nearly18 weeks and making my suffering a public spectacle for gawkers, psychobabble boneheads, sheriff's boneheads, et alia. And one and all know that i can't afford an attorney, have no brother or sister or aunt or whatever to step in and advocate for my rights. one and all know they can do whatever comes into their sadistic little heads to anne nakis, because anne nakis is, in this society, powerless and marginalized. wrongly and cruelly done.

 

mon 14 july o8

 

have come back for a visit here to make textual emendations that i've been too sick to take care of. i know you won't give a rat's ass about this, but i'm a grammar nut and an asperger's fussbudget, so i have to mention it. the word  - i - in the above lyrics in certain phonemic environments has to be followed in the next word by an - n -. i think the word GRA is one of the ones that makes you do that, but since all my grammar books and dictionaries and ya-da ya-da are in storage, i can't check anything. i have to wait for things to surface to the top of my memory. it has surfaced.

 

Update 24 July 2009: I put this love song here last year for a specific person, and I'm sure any regular readers could guess who. I'm very sorry now that I did that, upset with myself. I'd like to shift things and rededicate the love described in this song to my 14 stolen animals, who were the only true stars in my life.

      Anger here. And please tell me why there shouldn't have been. This post is a mixture of both deep love and deep anger. Why shouldn't I be angry at the individuals and agencies who caused my life to be destroyed? Why shouldn't I also express love, where I feel it? These posts from last year are all very emotional, and the emotions had to be dropped willy-nilly into the blogs for me to release a little, to carry on with bizarre days that I didn't want or accept. And this was written on the 5th July. Matthew had just told me on the 2nd that people wanted to kill me. How much confusion and anxiety do you imagine that added to the emotions I was already dealing with?

      When I wrote taim inis anois last year, I did it with a lot of hope that it would turn out not to be true. I hoped the people protecting me, and I didn't yet know who they worked for, would see that I got a home and at least some of my animals. But it has indeed turned out to be true: taim inis anois.