Nothing Special … bah …

Sorry. Sometimes one wants to run away. Just so. For no “special” reason, just “so”.
Like, things became a bit heavier than usual, or something else popped up, opening another front line.  The causes may vary as the appraisals do, the impulse stays.
Ideas … throw anything (what ?) in a car and drive off. Walk out – simply as that: Turn around, walk away. Very Americaine – in German it’s the picture of the man who “just goes for cigarettes” (“Ich geh’ mal Zigaretten holen!”). He never comes back.
Others may fake their death, orchestrate their demise – vanishing is (not that) easy. People who deal with this professionally, mostly detectives, say that things are not that easy: The important thing is not what you do before you “die”, but afterwards. It needs and means a total rupture – few are ready to make that.
And of course there are things you can not run away from.
Your own body. Or relations you can not cut off, that run to deep in your personality, your own being; they will not change or end when you just go to another place, change your name – change something else of this outer persona. I very much like the word and idea of “per-sona~”, the “sounding through” – the thing one holds before the real face and sounds through, the mask if you will, that what is shown, and sound.
Exactly what we do here on the interwebs, as Donnn once called it.
My ideas of running away are totally conform and traditional. It’s less about going to another place, travelling away and in such hiding – it’s more about throwing all in the faces of those who want something; more a kind of stuffing things down the throats of people or personified circumstances; to finally get rid of  obligations, to finally reach  a feeling, a state of being un-bonded, un-obligated, un-obliged [ all words contain the Latin ligare, what means nothing else but verbinden, to connect: So I finally want to be un-connected ]. And of course the usual images come up, like cars, horses, running … I hate to run. I like horses, in as much as I like other large animals like cows or Hirsche, but I feel not connected to them in a special way. Wolves are different.
What’s it all about – running away ? Getting rid of ?
And I can’t.
My father took care for his dying wife, my beloved mother, for years, and we did not run away. Maybe it’s “protestant”; or simply “grown up”; you do not back out, run away, ignore – especially when death is in your living room.
So, where does this blab lead to ? Nowhere of course, it’s just Gelapper. I am tired. I feel fear. And from a certain age onwards you realize that wine does not “solve problems” – don’t be silly, gettin’ hammered solves nothing and never did – but from one point in time onward it even does not “make things light”, lighter, simpler, more bearable; simply because death, cancer and slipping into the big nothing are not tolerable, acceptable or “light” – at least from my actual point of view.
It comes nearer. Is life from a certain point onward only an exercise in dying ? Learning to embrace the bone man ?
I hate to see people die from cancer, suffer from cancer, I hate cancer. I have to look at it, and I do. And Silvaner does not help anymore. The more you see, the more it hurts, the more you die with them.

There IS no place to run to, nowhere to hide …



13 thoughts on “Nothing Special … bah …

  1. I think that everyone has that desire to run away from “things” at one time or another. It happens when it seems the world is weighing you down. When I couldn’t actually run away from things I usually made some kind of change or made a decision that would eventually alter my course – like when I applied for grad school which eventually lead to my new job as a librarian and a new city and a boyfriend – now a fiance. Is there a change you might want to make for yourself?

  2. Life can deal us some cruel blows at times can’t it? Recommended listening Run Baby Run Many years ago I did what Agatha Christie did, but instead of going to Harrogate I buggered off to Iceland for a few days, without telling a soul. That taught the jealous bitches I was staying with at the time, making disparaging remarks about my bugle beaded evening gown with slit to the hip with a plunging neckline to the waist saying I looked like a magician’s moll. It also taught me a valuable lesson too, about geography, I thought Reykjavik was a place in the Greek isles and had packed for hot weather!

  3. What annakamaga says is true..although the process of going through the “this to shall pass” stage can be an ordeal and scary, actually. I sat there for years watching helplessly as my mother deteriorated from Alzheimer’s. I was so scared of the inevitable. I understand this wanting to schmeiß alles in den Korb und abhauen.

    I actually went west many decades ago to reinvent my persona… went to Austin, Tx.

  4. Oh yes Annabel, I want to change some things. I must find a steady job, that’s the most important thing. As things look that may include going to another place.
    Hey – it’s nice that you dropped by !

    Thank you for the music, Fahr LX – and I thought I’d have heared all possible versions of Stairway to Heaven !

    *mwah*, dear Ann.

    Ah, Ms Lear – “Rum, Baby, Rum” … Thank you for the link to Agatha’s escape, I always wanted to know a bit more about that. I bet you looked stunning, Mitzi, and I’m sure you found yourself in one of the Icelandic hot pools immediately after your arrival. Oh lala

    When it rains it pours, as they say. It’s a bit much at the moment, alles auf einmal, dear Foam … I simply have to priositise and work down the list. I just need to scrape meself together, and stop to stare like a drunk Karnickel

  5. Dear Mago,
    The only way to really live life is to recognise that it is fragile. In that way, we also understand that our life and what time we have is precious and much of what we do and occupies us doesn’t really matter. It helps us focus on what does matter. I am sorry that you have had to bear the burden of your loved ones and friends suffering from cancer. I have had to do the same. It is painful because we care but it is also wonderful because we care. I hope that you will find peace and comfort in God who is not indifferent to our pain.

    Psalm 103 says
    “13 He is like a father to us, tender and sympathetic to those who reverence him. 14 For he knows we are but dust 15 and that our days are few and brief, like grass, like flowers, 16 blown by the wind and gone forever.

    17-18 But the loving-kindness of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting to those who reverence him; his salvation is to children’s children of those who are faithful to his covenant and remember to obey him!”

  6. Mitzi that is a great story. I can imagine a picture of you in that dress and I think it’s charming that you thought Reykjavik was in Greece.

    I had a desire (common amongst fathers, I suppose, although rather taboo as a subject) to escape from my children when they were young, and got as far as applying for a job in Azerbijan. I didn’t get an interview, and thus the children had a father — who now, over a decade on, actually wants to be with them. It was not always like that though.

    [Meta: thank you so much for making the blog readable to my half-century eyes. There are a couple of blogs I read all at one big go, because I have to copy and paste them and then print them off–your old colour scheme had put yours in the same category!]

  7. Thank You LGS – I envy your loving trust.

    Yeah, the lovely kiddies can make you run away screaming, Looby. It’s among mothers too. They suffer from this, because they are expected to be caring loving etc. and to their own amazement they discover monsters.

    Regarding the readability: Tell me such a thing, please ! It is no hiding game ala “spot the text” and get a free ride, it is meant to be read easily ! So when the next layout comes along (and there will be a next layout !) I encourage you to give feedback about the readability, like I ask LX.

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