Human Touch

You and me we were the pretenders
We let it all slip away
In the end what you don't surrender
Well the world just strips away
Girl, ain't no kindness in the face of strangers
Ain't gonna find no miracles here
Well you can wait on your blessings my darling
I got a deal for you right here
I ain't looking for praise or pity
I ain't coming round searching for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that human touch
Just a little of that human touch

Ain't no mercy on the streets of this town
Ain't no bread from heavenly skies
Ain't nobody drawing wine from this blood
Its just you and me tonight
Tell me, in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin's too much
I just want something to hold on to
And a little of that human touch
Just a little of that human touch

Oh girl that feeling of safety that you prize
Well it comes at a hard hard price
You cant shut off the risk and the pain
Without losing the love that remains
Were all riders on this train

So you've been broken and you've been hurt
Show me somebody who ain't
Yeah, I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But, hell, a little touch up and a little paint...
You might need something to hold on to
When all the answers, they don't amount to much
Somebody that you could just to talk to
And a little of that human touch
Baby, in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin's too much
I just want to feel you in my arms
Share a little of that human touch
Feel a little of that human touch
Give me a little of that human touch


Bruce Springsteen

Cara Madre

I am writing this here, because I do not know if I will ever be able to say it all in person. I don't believe that I have sufficient command of my emotions when it comes to talking to you, and unfortunately I don't believe that you will actually listen to all I have to say. Worst of all, I don't believe that my words will affect you in any way whatsoever. But these words need to be said, or at the very least put to writing.

Fact is, I cannot communicate with you. To call it a generation gap, a gender gap, a role gap, or any other gap would be farcical - the yawning chasm between us beggars description. What is important to you is superficial to me. What is important to me is foolish idealism to you. I have little interest in describing my day while it is still unraveling, and I have no answer to the question "why didn't you say hi?" Ultimately, I know it is an expression of concern and care - however, it is a conversational dead-end. I do not know what to do with it. To attempt to begin chatting with such a classic line is like attempting peace negotiations by opening fire on the diplomatic envoy. "Hey, these bullets might stop. You'll miss it when it's gone, I tell you!"

Frustration. Anger. Hatred. Hopelessness. Furiousness. Helplessness. I am not the daughter you so desire. I am not my brother. I am not your subordinate. I am not a mind-reader. I am not your venting ground. I am not perfect. As a child, as a man, as a human being. Neither are you. As a parent, as a child, as a woman, as a human being. You do not know what is best for me - how could you, when you do not even know me as a man? ; do you even know what is best for yourself? - nor do you know what is right for me. And no, you do not know better than me. The way things stand, no, we can never be "friends". And if you're grooming me to "take care of you in your old age", you are most definitely going about it wrong. VERY wrong.

Guilt is a motivating force, yes. Possibly the worst. It works, but it makes the victim feel like that - a victim. Dirty whether it's done or not. Possibly dirtier when it's done, for having allowed guilt into the system. Stop it.

The depth of feeling and emotion you are capable of generating in me beggars belief. Unfortunately, most of that feeling and emotion is negative. So much so that you are the only person on this earth that can make me contemplate suicide. Overly dramatic, perhaps, but very true. Whether it is tackling a lamp-post or a heavyset tree at high speed for a glorious final blaze, taking a sharp kitchen knife to my wrists in your face so you can see my agony, or flinging myself off a high-rise for that brief moment of utter freedom - I have thought these things, some many times, and I still do. It is only my joie de vivre - my sheer will to live that denies me the peaceful eternity I seek.

Yes, I do not fear death. Perhaps I see it as my only escape from the emotions you cause - self-hatred is possibly the worst I feel. What I do fear is not having done something significant with my life. Contributed meaningfully to the people of my life, contributed meaningfully to the world. Made things better, made a positive difference.

You mock my desires. You mock my choices. You mock my dreams. You mock the path I have chosen for my life. I do not mind, for I understand your reasons. However, YOU do not understand. And that, I mind; for you are not interested in understanding MY reasons. And there lies the biggest gap of all. I do not know what it is that has made you so arrogant, so egotistical, so self-righteous; be it society, age, career success, upbringing or insecurity - but what I do know is that I do not wish to follow your path.

I do love you. Not in any way you understand, but that's well reciprocated - I do not understand your expressions of love either. It's simple - we cannot communicate. I need the benefit of hindsight to understand what you say. I also need to know that I'm being listened to when I speak. You need what I call 'idle chatter'. Frankly, you need a daughter - which I am not. Hoping that I'd become one out of the sheer force of your will is false hope - I was born with a dick, and it's not dropping off anytime soon.

The trouble with unspoken expectations is that - they are unspoken. Unclear. Unknown. Communicating with them does not work. Even keeping them does not work. They destroy relationships.

I know that you're doing the best you can, and that you've done the best you can with what you knew. Life is a journey of learning. What I do not respect is believing that you already know it all; that there's no more learning to be had, that there's nothing that can be made better. I do not blame you, but I do not forgive you.

I don't know what to do anymore. I will, of course, work very hard at proving you wrong by becoming a bright star in my chosen path - but that wouldn't make you see anything new, would it? And I'll pay you back everything you ever put into me, since money is so damn important to you. Our relationship will be kept wonderfully superficial, fear not.

Perhaps I'll take up prayer. Surely if anyone can show you the light, it'd be your God, right?