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The fall of Myspace hurt me a lot!

I was formerly a Myspace "randomer."  Meaning, I wrote blogs about whatever, whenever, in the form of freeflowing thoughts that made sense to a few people who were reading my blogs while in altered states. 

 

That was the introduction.

 

So, I'm thinking, who is "the real me?"  Who is the free me and what does she do when all restraints are removed?  When does happiness occur?

 

These questions came to me while driving down the freeway a few minutes ago, and they were completely inspired by a lovely threesome of Old Metallica, AC/DC's Hells Bells and Green Day's American Idiot.  Cranked up loud, windows rolled up, AC on, and growling, which for me equates to singing because I can't sing worth a s**t.   

 

I thought about times when I'd been at home alone, music blasting, sitting at the dining room table making s**t, or sewing, or mopping the floor.  Never jazz, never classical, never pop - it had to rock and, preferably, it had to rock hard.  Sometimes, Hate-Breed hard.  Frequently Master Of Puppets.  Or perhaps Dylan at his most cynical and sarcastic. 

 

Just me, alone, singing, creating, feeling no self-consciousness, no need to entertain anyone, and no need for anyone to accept me. 

 

Those moments were rare - as rare as I had time alone. 

 

So, I'm thinking those questions about, "when can I be the real me," and I start vividly remembering Pamela Reed's excellent performance as Belle Shirley in The Long Riders.  She's laid out in a big old clawfoot bathtub, and in walks Cole Younger.  She says something to him about how many w****s he'd visited that night, and he tells her she's his first.  It truly is clear that he loves her. 

 

When Jesse James gets married, they have a big shindig and the whole town's there.  Cole steps outside just as Belle is saddling up her wagon, packed for a long haul.  She says to him, "How come I wasn't invited to this affair?"  He answers her, "Well, because you're a w***e." 

 

She ends up in Texas and marries a Native-American named Sam Starr.  Then she's Belle Starr.  Cole decides to mount up and ride his horse all the way from Missouri to Texas, because he wants to see Belle - both because he loves her, and he wants to make sure that her new husband knows that in her prior existence, she was a w***e. 

 

To make a long story short, Cole and Sam Starr get into a knife fight, with Sam on the losing end.  Somewhere within that span of time - between Jesse James' wedding and Sam Starr's demise - Cole tells Belle on several occasions that no man would ever "make an honest woman" out of her, because she's just a w***e. 

 

Well, Belle, we were apparently cut from the same cloth.  Good enough to f**k; hell, even good enough to fall in love with - but not good enough to enter the world of honest women. 

 

I feel fortunate that I have the likes of AC/DC and Metallica to comfort me.  I hope there was something to comfort Belle.