Wednesday, July 13, 2005

The Enigma.

I walked down the hallway, trying to be mindful of my sadness. The industrial carpeting brushed at my feet more heavily today. I simply couldn't lift them much more. In the distance I heard a familiar sound. I've heard it before, but didn't have the will to recognize it.

As I approached the large, cavernous foyer of the building, the sound came loud and clear. As if in a procession, I marched towards the elevators, trying to believe today wasn't as bad as it felt. I stopped. I held the banister standing between me and falling four stories onto the hard granite floor. I looked out and observed four students playing the trombone, French horn, trumpet and clarinet.

It was one of the of the Enigma Variations, Nimrod, by Elgar that was echoing through the large chamber. I lifted my head, tears in my eyes and saw the massive window, stained with the cityscape of San Francisco at night. As I looked out I hoped, prayed, that someone was in one of the monolithic towers I observed. I hoped they were looking back at me, witnessing my sadness, seeing me for who I am. As the stained window blurred, I wanted to yell out to the lonely stranger, "I'm miserable! Now you know! I won't hide it anymore! No more pretending to be happy!"

The song ended. The chamber silenced. I looked down, tears in my eyes, asking myself why have I been cursed with a life marked by severe and persistent depression.

Now you know, dear stranger.

5 Comments:

Blogger RT said...

You look into my eyes and you see strength
You hear my voice and you know love
But that strength and love are only a mirrored image
of what you hold deep within yourself
What lies behind my eyes is a pain you'll never know
If you listen closely to my voice you'll hear sorrow
Heaven forbid you should ever see though my mirror
Fore what lies behind is a window streaked with tears
You hold on to the strength you see and the love you hear
Maybe it will give you hope to get through another day
As for me, I'll sit here behind my mirror and dream
Of what it would be like on your side
And only looking in.

12:43 AM  
Blogger An80sNut said...

You head to the cafeteria and decide that it isn't worth holding back anymore. You grab 3 of the largest chef's knives available and begin juggling. You feel better even though you are now missing a pinky and can't hit the Q, A and Z keys as well anymore.

6:42 PM  
Blogger Fred said...

This is about as good as I've read here in BlogWorld.

It makes me wonder what reflection would be on the massive window if I were alone and lifted my head.

I was called an enigma by my boss in 1992; he wondered aloud if I belonged in his department. He wound up being one of only three people I would identify as a mentor and is a close friend today.

11:01 PM  
Blogger Mr. Snitch said...

SInce I've been depressed during various points in my life (this being one of them) I wonder if I should feel good about someone else being depressed, and if so, what that would mean. Does it mean "aha, someone else really gets it"? Does it mean misery loves company? Does it mean I'm not allowed to really wallow in my depression until I am damned sure no one else is as depressed as me?

I'll get back to you on this if I don't off myself first.

11:00 PM  
Anonymous Me said...

Here's my tip: sunshine, fresh air, and chocolate are your friends. Why do you think I hike as much as I do--and usually with a couple of Cadbury chocolate & almond bars in tow.

3:11 AM  

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