Posted by: Marie | December 20, 2013

(902) The unspoken – Part 1 of 2

Post #902
[Private journal entry written on Friday, July 27, 2012]

Last night, at the end of Renee’s lesson – after the timer had gone off, marking the end of the lesson, but before we stood up from the piano – Renee picked up a pad of post-it notes from the basket of supplies that sits on top of the piano . . . and she picked up a pencil . . . and, without saying anything in preface, she started writing words on a post-it note . . .

The way she was holding the pad caused her hand to block my view of what she was writing. All I could do was wait for her to finish . . .

As I waited, my mind was racing . . . was she writing a “help me” note or an “I’m going to kill myself” note? If so, how would I respond? If she was trying to sneak me a message in a way that her step-mom wouldn’t notice, then could I respond in a way that wouldn’t blow her secrecy? What would I say?

Finally, she finished . . . she pulled the top post-it note from the pad and handed it to me . . .

It said:

My Chemical Romance

Black Parade

She announced that this is her absolute favorite song . . . and that it starts out with a piano part that she really likes . . . and that she really likes the band . . .

Oh . . . okay . . . whew . . .

I inquired as to which is the song title and which is the band name . . . she told me that Black Parade is the song and My Chemical Romance is the band.

(244)

Photo by Martin Chen

I asked if I could find it on YouTube . . . yes, of course . . . and she told me which video is best for viewing . . .

The thought was still in my mind that she might be trying to send me a secret hidden message . . . like maybe I should go check out the song to see what it is about . . . maybe there is a message buried in the song that she is hoping I’ll catch . . . I mean, she handed me this information totally out of the blue . . . we had not been talking about anything that would segue our conversation in that direction. It was a bit strange . . . there was something in her demeanor that raised concern in me . . .

So, I told her I would check it out before I went home for the evening . . .

However, I got sidetracked and forgot about it . . . and I went home last night without checking it out . . .

I didn’t remember my promise to her until I saw the post-it note on my desk this morning . . .

I decided I better check it out this morning in case she is waiting for me to catch her hidden message . . . or something like that . . . I’m hoping the song is not about a teenage girl committing suicide . . . then I would feel bad that I didn’t look at it last night . . .

I pulled up the video she recommended . . . I discovered the song is actually titled Welcome to the Black Parade . . . and the video and the band are consistent with the goth style of clothing and make-up that Renee prefers . . .

I pulled up the lyrics and read through them as I listened to the music . . . the words don’t seem to be as dark as I was worried they might be, although they are still plenty dark for an 11-year-old to be embracing:

When I was a young boy
My father took me into the city
To see a marching band
He said, “Son, when you grow up
Would you be the savior of the broken
The beaten and the damned?”

He said, “Will you defeat them
Your demons and all the non-believers
The plans that they have made?
Because one day, I’ll leave you
A phantom to lead you in the summer
To join the Black Parade”

Sometimes I get the feeling
She’s watching over me
And other times I feel like I should go
And through it all, the rise and fall
The bodies in the streets
And when you’re gone we want you all to know

We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on
And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on, we’ll carry on
And in my heart, I can’t contain it
The anthem won’t explain it

And while that sends you reeling
From decimated dreams
Your misery and hate will kill us all
So paint it black and take it back
Let’s shout out loud and clear
Do you fight it to the end?

We hear the call to carry on, we’ll carry on
And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on, we’ll carry on
And though you’re broken and defeated
You’re weary widow marches

On and on we carry through the fears
Disappointed faces of your peers
Take a look at me
‘Cause I could not care at all

Do or die, you’ll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
Though you try, you’ll never break me
We want it all, we wanna play this part

Won’t explain or say I’m sorry
I’m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scar
Give a cheer for all the broken
Listen here, because it’s only

I’m just a man, I’m not a hero
Just a boy who wanna sing his song
Just a man, I’m not a hero
I don’t care!

We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on
And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on, you’ll carry on
And though you’re broken and defeated
You’re weary widow marches on

Do or die, you’ll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
Though you try, you’ll never break me
We want it all, we wanna play this part
(We’ll carry on)

Do or die, you’ll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
Though you try, you’ll never break me
We want it all, we wanna play this part
(We’ll carry on)

I don’t know if Renee understands – or even wants to try to understand – the full meaning of the words. But, either way, I decided that it would be helpful for me to do some research about the song so I could have a better idea the meaning behind it . . .

The song is from a rock opera where a guy dies from cancer, and death comes for him in the form of his fondest memories, which is when his dad took him to a parade as a kid. The lyrics are describing his after-death experiences.

I have no idea what part of the song resonates with her. I guess I’ll have to ask her. But at least I don’t think I need to dial 911 or anything urgently responsive like that.

I printed up the lyrics and I’ll ask her about it at her next lesson . . . about the song and what she likes about it, why it’s her favorite, to what parts she relates . . .

It seems to me that telling me about her favorite music is a way for her to reach out and say things she might not otherwise feel free enough to say.

I’ve got to listen to what she is saying because I’m not sure any other adult is listening to what she is saying.

Someone needs to listen.

[Continued in the next post . . . ]

Quotes 812


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