Am I crazy and silly, or what!
People all around me in a busy train station, and here I am, on full pipes, belting out:
“We’ll always be together, together in electric dreams”
Actually it’s more “IN E-L-E-CT-R-I-C D-R–E-A–M–S!”, as my neck muscles stretch and strain.
And nobody reacts, or even looks at me funny.
Because they can’t hear me.
I’m on the platform, you see, and the train has pulled up at the terminus, and there’s a massive hiss of air brakes and the roar of the engine as the driver winds it down.
I can’t even hear myself … I could be anybody!
But it still feels a little decadent, mildly daring.
Crazy and silly.
“Crazy and silly” is a code thing between my sister and I for people who think they are being off the wall, or pushing out the boat, only they’re pretty careful about it.
The kind of people who go “mad” between inverted commas.
Sing out loud when no-one can hear them.
It came from the two fresh-faced Swedish lads my sister met in Scotland many lives ago.
The boys, late teens, as was my sister then, were doing their student backpacking thing, as was she. Lovely, polite, enthusiastic Nordic boys they were.
Lanky … check! … blue-eyed … check! … blond … check!
Anyway the three spent a while together, wherever it was … it could have been Edinburgh.
The lads, let’s call them Sven and Ole — I will, anyway — were eager to impress my sis, and the three gabbed away, her in her ironic all-in-the-amused-tone-single-raised-eyebrow Irish way, the lads in their best “Eurotrash” English.
Sven and Ole were enjoying the banter, and then Sven, or Ole, the eyes a little wider, the voice rising, announced:
”We’re crazy … and silly!”
Sorry lads, lovely and shiny and neat and genuine, and altogether bursting with Nordic wholesomeness, my sister reckoned … but crazy?
But I still love these little moments, when you break your normal stride and stretch the legs a little on the wild side.
The mildly wild side.
But they still take you both into and out of yourself. Give your individuality a little run-out.
Draw your attention to yourself, making you feel a part of the crowd and apart.
Claiming your individual majesty.
Was it Bertrand Russell who said: “Sanity is a synthesis of insanities”?
Google gives me the full quote:
“Every isolated passion, is, in isolation, insane; sanity may be defined as synthesis of insanities. Every dominant passion generates a dominant fear, the fear of its non-fulfilment. Every dominant fear generates a nightmare, sometimes in form of explicit and conscious fanaticism, sometimes in paralysing timidity, sometimes in an unconscious or subconscious terror which finds expression only in dreams. The man who wishes to preserve sanity in a dangerous world should summon in his own mind a parliament of fears, in which each in turn is voted absurd by all the others.”
You get Bertie’s drift … look a bit closer and we’re all a bit crazy … and, my beating, dangerous heart, silly!
Life does serve up any amount of lovely little off-kilter moments, though.
Just last night I was taking Bella and Lily for their last walk and system evacuation of the day.
It was on the cusp of evening, where you cannot tell if is end of day or beginning of night.
The pair were on their leashes, all tail-wagging shrub-sniffing business.
Kind of proud of themselves, with their fine doggie nostrils that can sniff out enemy pee three miles upwind.
We were walking alongside the wooden fence that frames the farmer’s field just across from our corner house.
Just up the way, I spotted a portly cat stretched out languorously on top of the fence, faded marmalade stripes just discernible against the cobalt sky.
Oh, oh …
The dogs didn’t see him even as they passed right beside him!
One of his front paws did stretch and tense a fraction, and he did trouble to extend his neck downwards a tad to observe the two hounds below.
But he was in no mind to leave his position, or even shift.
His look and demeanour made me think of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland.
If my two mutts did see him, and snarled into action, he might have maybe disappeared, leaving just his mischievous grin floating in the moonlit air, or tossed off a languid put-down.
Our dogged detectives carried on, though, oblivious to Canine Enemy Number One lurking in plain sight above them.
Off-kilter can take many forms.
Like the delicacy of that flower petal snubbed incongruously against the pavement, like an upturned ice-cream, or maybe parasol, which I just had to photograph.
A diamond on the trail of the unexpected.
Thinking about it all now, I just close my eyes …
I close my eyes (Love never ends)
We’ll always be together
However far it seems (Love never ends) We’ll always be together
Together in electric dreams
My Word of the Week (#WotW) is “Silly”
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