Monday, February 02, 2009

He's Hoping I'll Come Through

Won't you come with me baby ?
I'll take you where you wanna go

And if it don't work out

You'll be the first to know

I'm pledging my time to you

Hopin' you'll come through too.

- Bob Dylan, "I'm Pledging My Time," Blonde on Blonde, 1966

It's amazing how you can take forms of art, such as the above lyrics, and apply it to whatever is going on in your life. I feel like I'm on the verge of a faint blossoming, that I'll see the silver streaked road over the next rise on that hill of saturated green in the distance. The question is do I want to climb that hill?

The alternative is rather staid, but at least it won't be stifling. Haven't I always said I've wanted to hear the words: "Stay with me. Stay with me because it's better to be together than apart. Stay with me and we'll be unstoppable."

It sounds like I'm auditioning for a weird stage play featuring two superheros in Danskin tights who are on the verge of splitting up, but know that their strength lies in being as one. The stage is too small, wooden. The tights are too tight, they don't match exactly. The older superhero is so confused that he has to read from the script because he keeps losing his place. The curtains are tattered and yellow. And yet there's the fragrant note of optimism in the air which hovers as the audience rises to its feet at the end. It's a sweet time to be a superhero in a stage play.

It's an even sweeter time to listen to Bob Dylan who might just sway this situation with his harmonica, organ, and guitar. I keep asking myself if I trust Bob, but what I'm really asking is do I trust myself? I'm supposed to be fragile, but I know I'm not. Perhaps I need to stop acting so fragile. After all, a superhero is still a superhero even on a too small stage.

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