Eli the Barrow Boy - The Decemberists

Eli, the barrow boy

Of the old town

Sells coal and marigolds

And he cries out

All down the day

Below the tamaracks

He is crying:

Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying

All down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

She is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove

And I must push my barrow all the day

And I must push my barrow all the day

Eli, the barrow boy

When they found him

Dressed all in corduroy

He had drowned in

The river down the way

They laid his body down in a church yard

But still when the moon is out

With his push cart

He calls down the day

Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown

Made of gold and silk Arabian thread

But, I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground

And still I push my barrow all the day

Still I push my barrow all the day

Things

There are things that a smile doesn't justify. There are things that are beyond words, sometimes hiding between music notes or the lines in a book. A heavy dragging of the feet may not simply indicates tardiness, nor does it reflect the effect of the overwhelming heat nowadays, cold in comparison still with the warmth of the heart. There are things that people don't understand, and you can't just explain either.

There are a lots of things that I want to say to a certain people that mean so much in my life. But under the circumstances, I find myself at lost at the choice of the right vocab, and also the way I can present them best. The reasons to this are whether I did something wrong along the way, or the cosmic occurrence find it convenience to put me in such an inconvenience of a situation. It never helps that I'm a painfully shy person, still, and also that my line of logic goes like that I should bear all the guilt and despair inside myself, and keep it there. I don't know, sometimes I'd pondered whether it is just simply because I'm a coward, or some instinctual ego repudiating myself from doing the right thing.

As much as I'm contemplating my real worth in this life and the true core of my personality, I'm still questioning myself over whether I am still madly in love with her or not. Rephrasing that, it is more of the question of do I really love her, or is it another complex electric currents' process occurring inside my head, the subject of, I don't know, stemming from my loneliness, or something. Is it just lust? The way I compensate for losing the love I feel from my parents and sibling as I slowly disintegrate from the family nucleus and into the world? 

It used to be one year, then two years. Now I will say that it has been three years, three freaking years that I still think of her every night and see as my possible life partner, as cheesy as that sound. Still I let myself the luxury of a faint hope that someday things will be right again, and I will be able to say to her how I really feel for her. A faint hope that not only she would accept me once again, but also love me as much as I love her. Everytime I see her smile, it would extremely be either my hating myself so much for still loving her or hating myself so much for screwing things up in the past. 

Now let me stop this before it lingers on. I can write about this time and again, as I always did, it seem, or I can tell people that I feel comfortable with telling this time and again till they get bored, but the fact will never change. There are just things that you can't change in this world. There are things that you can't simply have.

There are a lot things that I want to say to her, and things I want to hear from her. For now, life goes on. The universe ever expand, and the simple existence of me continues on in its modest, yet hopeful being.