Lyrics to Trouble Me : Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and you worries. Trouble me on the days when you feel spent. Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong? Trouble me.
Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling; there's no telling where it starts or how it ends. Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your silence is my greatest fear? Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong? Speak to me.
Let me have a look inside these eyes while I'm learning. Please don't hide them just because of tears. Let me send you off to sleep with a "There, there, now stop your turning and tossing." Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.
Spare me? Don't spare me anything troubling. Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and you worries. Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm. Lastly, let me know what I can mend. There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see. Trust is what I'm offering if you trouble me.
It's not much trouble, really. It's easier together.
I will, of course. There's not a better option, and I think it's important to vote.
I really want to like him. He's personable. He's adorable. He is running on a platform of CHANGE. He is the first 'African American' -- or whatever the current PC term is -- Presidential nominee.
The thing is, I have no faith in him. He is making all these amazing claims to change. As if we simply have to vote him in, and he will wave his magic wand and make everything better. I'm sorry, folks, but it doesn't work that way. The government is more than the President. He will not only have to win this election, but fight every part of the system to get anything done. How will he fund all these amazing changes and tax breaks? The country is already in debt. It's an issue he fails to address.
Anyone who seems to promise miracles causes my eyes to squint in scrutiny.
If you look carefully, there is surely a disclaimer printed somewhere on his person. 'Promises may be smaller than they appear.'
No, I'm not voting for him because I think he can deliver anything special. I'm voting for him because McCain bothers me on some primitive level. And Palin even worse.
(Is it just me, or does everyone else see her playing dumb? As if we'll feel safer somehow if she pretends to be a little bit nicer, and a little bit more innocent. She is no fluff piece. I secretly suspect she threatened and fought her way onto the McCain ticket in the first place. People may see Ms. Clinton as a shrewd bitch, but at least she's straightforward about it. I rather admire that.)
Religion. History. Psychology. I'll even stoop to discussing mathematics or physics, if someone will just include me in a conversation. Teach me, if I don't know. I'm a great learner. Listen to me, if I do know. Share ideas with me.
Talk to me about something that lets me use my brain! Please!
I'm starting to forget how to even think about these things. And, gods, I don't want to lose that! I love my intelligence.
Somebody debate me on something. Anything. The reason leaves are green. The effectiveness of the voting system and the electoral college.
Please don't forget that I have a working mind. I do actually know things beyond relationships and fashion.
I have some things to say, but they're not solidified in my mind. If I start writing now, it will wander all over the place and not actually say anything. So I'm sitting here in silence, trying to settle on one topic. One point of choice. One idea that I want to convey.
While I sat here trying to fall into a groove, I realized that maybe that is what I need to write about today. Maybe I don't need to write about my flaws, my impatience, or the desire to learn and grow, or the work it takes to get where I want to be. Maybe today I just need to say that I'm thinking about all of that, and so much more.
I want to thank you for that.
Thank you, P. You challenge me. Every conversation, every thought that escapes your head challenges me. It's contrary to my comfortable little hole in the soil, and I love that about you. I love that you argue with me. You force me to look at myself in a different way. You help me to see my relationships differently. And by looking at all the angles -- even the ones I don't like -- I get to see a little better.
Thank you, D. You support me. I know we try not to dwell on the past, but I want to delve back just long enough to say that you have always done your very best to support me. When I said BDSM, you looked into it. When I cried, you held me and listened. When I had a problem, you offered a solution. When I was hurting, you tried to save me. Anything I want to do, I know that I can count on you to help me along.
Thank you, K. You feed me. I don't mean literal food, although you do that also on occasion. You feed my passion. You feed my drive. Our interactions -- even when not entirely pleasant -- give me the energy to get through every day. You fill me up and keep me vibrant. I'm pretty sure I glow just from talking to you. Life has color as long as I have you.
Thank you, to all my dear friends. You complete me. You fill my days and nights with smiles, and laughter. It's all of you that make this life worth living. It's all of you that make me want to keep growing, keep going, keep getting stronger and better. It's all of you that fill my heart and mind. I am beautiful not because of myself, but because of you. Each of you. I can't even start to list names or initials, for fear I'd leave someone out. Or, at the least, make this entry far longer than anyone could sit through. You know who you are. (If you're reading this, and you think it's not you, think again. It's you.)