This song, "Own Eyes", a remaking/remix/sample of Local Natives' "Wide Eyes" by West Virginia/L.A./NY rapper D-Why, was one of two songs I listened to on repeat as I drove the 2.5 hours from Columbus, Ohio to Grafton, Ohio on March 30th, 2012 to attend the funeral of a friend who died of cancer at the rip ol' age of 22. Twenty fucking two. The song isn't about death, per se, but it's about carrying the burden of a tremendous loss. For D-Why, it's about the dissolution of a relationship, the self-realizations that come along with it, and the fortitude to move forward.
I'm tired of saying hellos, good-byes, goodnights, and 'what's your names?'/ 'where'd you go?', 'why are you crying?', 'why are you lying?' and 'where are you staying?'/ When the love is gone, disappoint and desire is all that remains/and you can pile those tears on top of my young and well dressed remainsBut for me, during that drive to and from the funeral, the song was all about the sharp pain I felt from my friend's all to soon passing. It signified all the things we all take for granted, everyday. Not the money or the things we work so hard to use that money for. No. I'm talking about the relationships we have with the people we love, the relationships we have with the people we want to love, the opportunities we allow to outrun us, and the hours, days and years spent doing things that don't make us happy. We take for granted the concept of happiness, often times focusing on short-term gratification in a way that gets us nowhere because we don't allow ourselves to live the life we truly want, be the person we know is possible, or take the chances of vulnerability and embarrassment by laying everything on the line for the people we want to be with. Is it the "I'll do it tomorrow" mentality, or are we just fucking cowards? Any way you look at it, we wait. And for what? What the fuck are we waiting for? There's no guarantee we'll even be here tomorrow. Maybe more importantly, there's no guarantee they'll be here tomorrow.
This is what I learned the hardway, and that is what the song means for me. The beauty of music is that it means whatever you want to it mean, however you want to feel at any given time and in any given place.
I was so shook at the funeral that I couldn't even look in the direction of the casket. I've never cried so much or so hard in my life. My friend and I weren't particularly close, but she embodied everything that I ever wanted to be. She was my idol, in that way. She had cancer as a child and went into remission. The cancer came back at 15, and she went into remission again, only to have it come back a third time at 21 and take her leg before ultimately taking her life 9 months later. And through it all? She carried a calm strength I've never seen before or since. She was more optimistic than a human being should be able to be. She never stopped fighting the good fight.
Alexandra Lee Morris died three year ago, last month. March 26th, 2012, to be exact. I fucking love you. You've taught me so much, and I'm sorry I haven't been living my life the way I should. I'm working on that. Here's the dedication I wrote to her shortly after her death.