“I don’t think I speak this language anymore,” James whispered to me as we sat on a city bus;

I had to laugh because I knew exactly what he was talking about

***

Optimism is such a weird sensation, a weird concept; it’s an affirmation that happens within us that says things are going to be amazing, and while there have been times where I’ve felt this weird twinge of expectancy, I’m just not good at positive thinking.

Take this blog, for instance.  I’ve gotten back such amazing feedback, both from people who I’m close with, and complete strangers.  It’s heartening, really - to finally be in a position where I can put my heart and mind towards something, and know I have an audience.  Know that what I’m doing will land somewhere, that it will reach something.  It’s opened up new areas of trust in me, and it’s choked out some of the pessimism that used to cover up my more vulnerable spots.

But I worry that it’s all going to end, that my community will close around me and that I’ll disappear, or I’ll forget to play guitar or how to write words, that I’ll lose all my bearings and inspiration.

***

It’s weird to begin an optimistic song with the words “the ship is going down”.

But I’m thinking of several situations that people close to me have been in, situations that have started out as “disasters”, and slowly been upgraded to “opportunities”.

Let’s start looking at these shipwrecks differently, from new angles and unexposed vantage points.  Let’s sing joyfully about the wreckage we’ve survived.

***

Oh, the ship is going down
The ship is going down
Telegram to the crowd, bring the rescue boat around

Oh, the ship is going down
Clear the clutter from the ground
The important people drown when the ship is going down

And oh, my hands, were made for your hands
And oh, my feet, were made to follow yours
And in the city lights, we’ll be friends
But when the streets disappear, I’ll be even lonelier

Oh the ship is sinking fast
I said the ship is sinking fast
This dream will never last, we’ll be buried by our past

Oh the ship is sinking fast
So run a warning up the mast
And the final cannon blast says the ship is sinking fast

And the devil is tall
The devil is tall
He doesn’t look like me at all but when I shut my mouth he talks

And oh, my mouth, will never speak your name
And oh, my heart will not forget the way you look tonight
And when we reach the shore, we’ll be cabin mates no more
I will tell my kids and wife about the wreckage I survived

***

Normally, I would write more, but there’s not much to write.  Sometimes, you just have to throw songs out there, see if they stick to the (proverbial) wall.

This is the work I remain optimistic about;  this is the effort that I long to see open up into something more.

Good night, world