Sunday, June 4, 2017

everybody hurts

a kinda rainy Sunday...watching One Love Manchester...and I officially have become uncomfortably numb...I am recalling all the benefit music concerts...the early ones...Concert for Bangladesh...Live Aid...Farm Aid...their creation...the need for donations in essence boiled down to monetary inequality...and water...or lack thereof...the music was great...I blindly accepted that if I pledged a few bucks it might feed starving children and help the down and out get on their feet...but then a new century bloomed...and the music benefit concerts...now the songs in the night were under a sky dripping with blood and senseless, incomprehensible death...and I wanted to believe...I wanted to think there is healing in collectively beating back evil...and, today, well I don't want to be a cynic...but as I watch these young singers and hear the haunting in their voices...I wonder if there really is a band aid big enough to cover this wound...the one that starts to heal and bursts open every time news reporters rouse our consciousness with a weary declaration of "breaking news"...we are so tired...we ache to dream...but cannot sleep...and, me....well, I daydream of innocent youth...want to go back...turn off the drum, the song, the cries for love and peace...go back to blissful ignorance so many years ago...ah, no sleep till Brooklyn...

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