you won't disappoint me; i can do that myself

I was in London for a week. Before that I was in the North Coast of Ireland... soaking up the rain. Yet... London was hot; sweltering; beautiful. So much to be absorbed in so little time. So much to do but so little money. Just the will, the determination. You can learn a lot, and feel a lot, just by walking around a city slowly. Well, I've been away, so this hasn't been updated. Here's a post / a draft / a rough attempt at putting feelings into words, which I've had kicking about since before London.. Since that time when I was walking beaches in the North Coast getting wet, getting cold, enjoying the view, being enlightened by the darkness.



Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglov

When Your Mind's Made Up

Running through a foreign city in the middle of their summer. Or is it their summer? Maybe it's winter? Do they have a winter? You can't tell, everything is new to you. These market stalls filled with kitchen utensils and throwaway junk, all these walls made of dust. The only water you've seen since you've been here was on your windscreen when that kid, he ran out, and he shouted, he waved, you nodded - obsequious - and he showed you his hands - a filthy t-shirt, and some dirty dish water, and he washed your windscreen.

It's two weeks later, and you suddenly realise she's never loved you. She just walked out the door fifty-seven minutes ago - you know, because you've been counting the seconds; said she was away for the groceries, even though the make-shift cupboard is full. You're running through this foreign city and you realise all these things about yourself - things that hurt you, things that confuse you. You're a desperate man. You don't even know if you love her, but you'd do anything for her, anything in the entire world, and you tell her time and again. She laughs. You laugh. It's a running joke between the two of you; only with you, it's the truth. You make it trivial as if you'd do it for anyone... You tell yourself you're a considerate, caring, compassionate person. You tell yourself you love everyone equally. You would do it for everyone. You would. You would. Would you?

You know you wouldn't... and that's why you're out the door in a flash, running the streets trying to find her, the only thing that holds you together; the only person that makes you feel whole, like a real human - like a nice person. With her you are at least half of what you wish you were. We never learn, do we?

Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglov

Leave

But maybe, just maybe, you learnt something about yourself. It's doubtful but it's possible. And maybe, just maybe, it was something essential. Something necessary. Something undeniable. It doesn't matter how it was learnt - through alcohol abuse, or running screaming through the darkness, or with your head on a pillow soaking in your own tears and praying for sleep. And maybe, just maybe, this song is the essence of that realisation. The guitar and the words and the voice, when experienced live, are overwhelming. This studio version is only a let-down in so much as my eyes don't well up with emotion I never knew I still felt, the way they did when I heard it, live, for the first time - performed by Glen, on his own, as an encore, with just an acoustic guitar and that voice.

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