Thoughts from The Half-Breed Prince

During my days on vacation (Too many? is that possible?) And Through this malaise (Too Often?) I've been burning through the episodes of The Sopranos.  I guess I needed some grown up time.  Time not filled with the boom boom superheroes that permeate the existence of my peers.  Time not filled with cartoons, the podcasts which I enjoyed so much, or high volume Youtube videos.  

So I used my "free time" updating this site, and watching this show that was so beloved during my teenage years.  But there's one episode that has stuck with me.  It was such a perfect balance of story and song.  The episode was called "University", and looking at a google image search on the episode, I'm not the only one.

In the episode a song was played three times.  It is called "Living On a Thin Line" By The Kinks.  And it has haunted me ever since.  I've been playing it way too often, hoping that the sentiment displayed in the song will stop affecting me.  

All the stories have been told
Of kings and days of old,
But there's no england now.
All the wars that were won and lost
Somehow don't seem to matter very much anymore.

I'm listening to this song, thinking about my late-summers unrest. A storm is rolling through. A continuous light show in the sky. 

Growing up, my mother told me to sit still while the thunder spirits worked. That's what I'm doing, my mind though, dances like the lights in the clouds. 

All the lies we were told,
All the lies of the people running round,
They're castles have burned.
Now i see change,
But inside we're the same as we ever were.

I have these thoughts, and much like any suicidal tendency that may cross my mind, I chock it up to maudlin conspiracy. But allow me to shrug off any fear of pursuing hackneyed tropes.  

Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Living this way, each day is a dream.
What am i, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?

I wonder why am I this way? Can it be that nature wins over nurture in my blood? Can it be a war over my father's hard scrabble immigrant blood vs. The blood of my mother's angry, bruised culture?  

Now another century nearly gone,
What are we gonna leave for the young?
What we couldn't do, what we wouldn't do,
It's a crime, but does it matter?
Does it matter much, does it matter much to you?
Does it ever really matter?
Yes, it really, really matters.

I have these feelings to pursue. To work hard and persevere, but I also have this fear of speaking up, out, and over.  Do what you have to do to maintain. Or, are these biased generalizations? 

Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?

Why then, do I get in situations that keep me away from my dreams? Can they possibly be on purpose?  Why do I not have the urge to blackout with alcohol anymore, yet, I find an excuse to buy booze everyday after work?

Now another leader says
Break their hearts and break some heads.
Is there nothing we can say or do?
Blame the future on the past,
Always lost in blood and guts.
And when they're gone, it's me and you.

And still, I find ways like this website, and my podcast to tell my stories?  How can I find myself fantasizing about being on stage? How do the ideas in my head still burn, when I've been fighting this fire for thirty-three years? 

Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line,
Tell me now, what are we supposed to do?
Living on a thin line

And now, that the storm is rolling away, I too hope the storm in my head will go away. I know I will keep trying to crawl out of self-dug graves, with the hope I'll dig a foot shorter next time.