So, I Guess Lynyrds Off The List For Awhile

It happens so innocently, couple drinks on the porch with friends, the night gets chilly, you go inside, turn the music on.

Hey, you say innocently, what you want to listen to? AC DC, they say. Ok.

After a few songs, old rock songs, one thing leads to another, and they all start to say the same thing.

One song after the other, all the lyrics after a bit all sound the same. Or, the ones I choose, innocently, have in my playlist, think are safe. But, not so much.

You ever notice that about old rock songs? The old hits of the era? 70s, 80s, verging on early 90s?

I forgot why I began to only listen to binaural beats, classic music without lyrics, instrumental jazz. Words trigger. Music can linger, it can sooth, it can abuse, it can make you remember.

And, there you find yourself, listening to, dare I say it, Lynyrd Skynyrd, talking about that Simple Man, and it’s all down hill from there.

You, er I, try, to just have fun, get drunk, and think it won’t go that way. You know the way. I know the way. Like the back of my hand. It’s a bad way.


After texting the one you have been thinking of too much, about how they are, most certainly NOT, a Simple Man.

His reply?

“I am a simple man, you’re just too complex to see it”.

Shyte. Guess Lynyrds off the list.

Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it’ll help you
Some sunny day oh yeah

I need to try harder to navigate these waters. Strong Paula is not doing so well. Complex men who seem to be under the delusion they’re ‘simple’, weakens me, apparently.

Last night, a friend and I are having a drink, and man, wasn’t every song I choose dripping in alternate meaning.

Not good. Not good at all.

Evil girlfriend came over last night, got into a beer or 3, and dang, every song dripped with meaning. Are all old tunes from my day about this unrequited love? This man/woman who we long for, desire, are they all about that?

Well, no. But they are when that’s all you can hear.

So, binaural beats only it is for me. For a while, methinks.

The internet is replete with excellent advice on these matters.

filled or well-supplied with something.
sensational popular fiction, replete with adultery and sudden death

Watched a plethora of them the last couple days. Self-help, not really being my go to, became the last few days my go to. Had to. Found myself nodding… aha, yup, sounds familiar… one too many times to ignore the signs.

I’ve learned all sorts of new things.

For instance:

Emotional Numbing
Attachment Wounds
Avoidance Personality
Insecure Attachment

Yet, unfortunately, apparently, even regretfully, none of them were that effective at preventing me from texting my attachment wounds with profound questions concerning their avoidance personality.

I think I need some more of that Emotional Numbing shyte I was so expert at.

I told him I had become stoic. Well, that all went out the window.

I need to meditate. Burn incense. Cleanse my space.

Straighten my crown.

Limerence; a state of infatuation or obsession with another person that involves an all-consuming passion and intrusive thoughts.

Well, that was a new one for me. Although, awareness of this state did nothing for preventing stupid late night drunk texting to those who we are not supposed to care about.

Ya, so anywho.

Another interesting one was

Trauma Bonding

a deep emotional attachment that develops in a relationship characterized by abuse that’s emotional, physical, or both.

Which, I suppose, is my problem. A state of being that Ol’Timbo left me with. Not to mention the ex husbands contributions.But Tim, after the theft, lies, manipulation, emotional abuse, psychopath that he was. Till death do us part… thank god.

Erasing him has been hard.

Now, just to be clear, I myself had a fine childhood. However, this fantastic channel I found on YouTube, Crappy Childhood Fairy, her advice resonates. Her focus is complex PTSD, or childhood Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Or, Complex PTSD.

She talks about abandonment issues, and relationship type counselling, and stuff about how to not let said fears wreak havoc on your personal life. Highly recommend, whether you’ve been traumatized as a child, or know someone who has, or just need some wisdom from someone whose been there, done that, t-shirts now a rag sorta person.

Although, advice is all well and good, but it doesn’t duct tape your hands from texting stupid shyte when you’re drunk and stupid.

But, anywho.

Though, I know this to be true… this this time will not take my sunshine. Much as I care, think, want, desire, I’ve come too far, worked too hard, found myself within, embraced solitude, aloneness no longer a prison sentence, but a blessing… even so. Even so.

A simple man. Someone I can love, and understand.

I mean, sure, in some forums, Lynyrd is taboo. All the ‘woke” lefties are reading this with horror, I imagine. The culture wars have infiltrated our listening habits, instructed us on who we can, and shall not, listen to.

Or, so the story goes.

Oh take your time don’t live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
Go find a woman yeah and you’ll find love
And don’t forget son there is someone up above

Oh, to be young and so idealistic. Foolish in our beliefs, of how we imagine it should be.

But its not.

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won’t you do this for me son if you can

See, my only excuse is a wonderful man who happened to be a sucktard at being a dad. Abandonment, well, at 2 and half, when our mom leaves cause she put all her chips on the wrong guy, tears of sadness all the way home on a plane, back to her home, to heal her wounded heart.

And, her only crime?

Loving one of those ‘so called’, simple men. pft.

Forget your lust for the rich man’s gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this oh babe if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied

Oh, if life were only a box of chocolates, eh?

I guess, in the end, you can not just walk away from things like this. You can, in some stoic fit of rationality turn the volume down, buddha walk, quietly, with grace, compassion for our self, be the better person, and.

That only happens in some Rom Com.

Just so ya know.

See, reality is, you can sometimes also go swerving off the road, drink too many pints of Canadian, listen too too many old rock songs, and go venturing forth into the wild pub younder looking for some release… and be buddha again.



You can. Who says otherwise? If they do, they lying to you.

I am. Back on course. Course corrected. Back to the plan. What’s the Tolkien line? Not all those who wander are lost?

Well, sometimes they’re just burning off a little steam.

Seriously though. Happiness is a state of being on the road. It’s not a place you dwell, it is a… more like an oasis in the desert of life, meadow, forests of life. You put a pin in it, to remind yourself where you found it. Make maps of how to get back. Take pictures of it, so you don’t forget it’s real.

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won’t you do this for me son if you can
Oh yes I will

Deep breath.

Drinking my tea, smoking my cylinders of sin, the day begins, again. Am I sad? A little. I am. I am.

Wouldn’t it be nice, if were just that simple man?

Not complex, and dark, and sad, and fucked up, and in denial. Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful if the man who had showed up at my door had become that, simple man. Someone I could love, and understand.

Oh don’t you worry you’ll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this oh babe if you try
All that I want for you my son is to be satisfied

But, no. Real life is not some old rock song.

Neil Young would understand. Ya, that’s another ballad for another time.

But anywho.

And, one more time.

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won’t you do this for me son if you can

Rinse, repeat.

If you can.

On a positive note… least I’m writing again.

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