:: The S.I.C.L.E. Cell ::

my view from the prison of a SICLE (Self-Imposed Child Loss Experience) due to debilitating maternal disease
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:: Saturday, April 16, 2005 ::

Listening to an old Depeche (Mode) CD today. I had to laugh. I remember tooling with my friends to "Dragon Park" in Nashville, Tennessee, blaring this tape as loudly as the speakers would push it. Dude, we thought it was soooo cool. Listening to it now, it's like a flippin Casio on crack! Our kids are going to think we were such dorks.

I'm sure most of the folks who read this blog were pretty buttoned up in high school. I, on the other hand, wore black, dated a straight-edge, non-racist, skinhead skater, and would have had blue streaks in my hair had I not also made a side trade of modeling. Still, I was a fairly "good girl".

Ummm, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, Depeche's magic Casio...

I laughed this afternoon not only at the bubblegum techno, but at the lyrics, which were pretty bad, very elementary. Fairly sweet for a bunch of deranged mall rats. How many times did our bunch as young girls pop in "Somebody" and hit "repeat" for an endless score of adolescent pining? Ahhhh, youth!

It's funny how we viewed those lyrics then. Today, for the first time, I heard something I hadn't before when listening to "It's Called a Heart". Namely:

"There's something beating here inside my body
And it's called a heart.
You know how easy it is
To tear it apart.
If I lend it to you
Will you keep it safe for me?
I'll lend it to you
If you treat it tenderly.
There's something beating here inside my body
And it's called a heart."

And in the second half of my life, that is, the life that began the moment after abortion, no lyric rings more true than this:

"There's a lot to be learned;
And you learn
when your heart gets burned."

:: ashli 3:13 PM # ::

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