Walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love.

Bastille, "Pompeii", acoustic version. Listen while you read.

I often have soundtracks for while I write. This has become one of those today. The lyrics are a beautifully haunting poem, yet vague enough to mean what your brains wants it to mean.

"I was left to my own devices
Many days fell away with nothing to show

And the walls kept tumbling down
In the city that we love
Grey clouds roll over the hills
Bringing darkness from above

But if you close your eyes,
Does it almost feel like
Nothing changed at all?
And if you close your eyes,
Does it almost feel like
You've been here before?
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"

For me, today, here's what my brain makes it say:

"Many days fell away with nothing to show"
I'm just doing day-to-day life without bigger-picture goals being accomplished.

"walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love"
I live in my second-hometown, a sweet and comfortable-enough place to live, but it's less and less ideal to me, losing the luster it once had for me.

"If you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?"
I get sentimental a lot; about past friends and childhood places. Sometimes I try to bring those things back by pretending nothing has changed. But it's clearly a delusion. The past is past.

I just gotta be an optimist about this anyway. Strive forward, Ellen...

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytie995zY-Q)