Visually, this post remains true to our Solid Gold Summer theme; musically it’s a slight side-step away from the 70’s disco sound and Egyptian accents that this summer had preciously sung out in questionable taste. Somehow, this song meets the moment at hand – when I find myself contemplating the idea of throwing away what remains of August, and summer, to the rabid wolves of the world. Usually I’m a bit more protective of this month, and these tender last weeks of the season of sun; this year I’m ready to launch full-speed into fall, forgetting every last golden bit of my 50th year on earth.
Need I say I love you?
Need I say I care?
Need I say that emotion’s something we don’t share?
I don’t want to be sitting here trying to deceive you
‘Cause you know I know baby, that I don’t wanna go
We cannot live together, We cannot live apart
That’s the situation, I’ve known it from the start
Every time that I look at you, well, I can see the future
‘Cause you know I know baby, that I don’t wanna go
Just throwing it all away, Throwing it all away
Is there nothing that I can say to make you change your mind?
I watch the world go round and round and see mine turning upside down
Just when I’m ready to let it all go, to throw away whatever is left of this crazy season, I remember that there is still a full month of summer left. A full month to recharge in what sun the summer days might allow – a time to reflect, to heal, to rebuild, and to rediscover the things that once brought me such joy, and might again. The world sometimes seems to dim the brightest lights, and I’m not always sure I understand why. Maybe to equalize things? Maybe to check the ego. Maybe to temper what might have been happiness? It doesn’t feel like humans were meant to dwell long in elation – and the gods never did appreciate those of us who flew too close to the sun. What a rotten trick to play on humanity – to give us such a capacity for hope and emotions, only to use them against us. Sometimes it’s just survival.
Now who will light up the darkness?
And who will hold your hand?
Who will find you the answers when you don’t understand?
Why should I have to be the one who has to convince you?
‘Cause you know I know baby that I don’t wanna go
Someday you’ll be sorry, Someday when you’re free
Memories will remind you that our love was meant to be
But late at night, when you call my name
The only sound you’ll hear is the sound of your voice calling
Calling after me
Yet August persists in her devilishly dogged way. Scrappy, fighting, resilient beast, like the Virgos born in her last days, she gets up for every one of her thirty-one mornings and faces whatever might arrive after whatever we might have done the night before. Reassurance and madness in one – attempting to throw it all away while seeing it indelibly into your memory palace. The more we fight things, the more they insist on staying lodged in our heads and, more dangerously, our hearts. In this mad world, it is a curse to feel – and to hang onto feelings. Throwing it all away might be the surest and safest path to self-preservation.
Just throwing it all away
Throwing it all away
And there’s nothing that I can say…
