It was fitting that after a long day worrying over a woman, over yet another situation I have absolutely zero control of, a friend of mine called and offered me tickets to an Opera performance of Mozart’s “Cosi Fan Tutte” which translated means, “All women are like that”, I’m told but upon researching a little deeper that even that translation is off a bit, and actually it translates “Thus do they all”. One of the more memorable lines “by 15 a girl should know where the Devil hides his tail.”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cos%C3%AC_fan_tutte
Mozart was 33 years old when it was released, and he died at 34 it seems. With over 600 works. I’m 33 and I have roughly 3. lol… but also cable television, and average lifespans are prolly 50+ year now, but I digress. It’s also fascinating to me that this seemingly innocent, portrayal of life, was banned in Vienna, played briefly in London in 1812 and then didn’t resurface until after World War 2. I guess calling women loose was risque even back then, lol. I love reading about human beings shunning their most genius, ridiculing their best, not understanding, being threatened by things that are new, and most usually attacking all that is really truly honest.
The truth cuts deep, and the quote “I write fiction so I can tell the truth” rings a bell when thinking this through. But basically Mozart shows how two fiances of two men are turned from love within 24 hours, to new lovers, and that even so, those two lovers should remain true and marry them anyway, because basically they are but human beings, which we all are, and that “All Women Are Like That.” They are easily swayed, but love and marry them anyway, because you know you love them no matter what, otherwise you wouldn’t be so hurt. I loved watching the dialog and the wisdom of these words written by a man my age, in 1790, and how true the ring to this day for me.
Mozart must have been cheated on, he must have lost a woman to another man in his life to have written such a piece of work. I bet that man ridiculed his body of work too, all 600 works of it, lol. Fuck em. Everybody’s a critic. I was recently, in anonymous hate mail a couple of months back, called a “whiney psychopath” and it cut to the bone. Again, like most obsessive alcoholics, I’m childish oversensitive and grandiose, so I took it… not well. It made me think of this blog, and the book, losing my parents, and sharing about all this pain, and whether or not it does all come off as whiney or psychopathic, and shit, it may, as a friend of mine says everyone is entitled to their opinion. But I guess for me, I’m trying to do something new here with my writing. I’m trying to be brutally honest, about my thoughts, about my obsessions, about my modern life in general, because I want it as an accurate history. All of us will be dead in 100 years, but with the Internet, its conceivable that this writing will still be here, and people may want to know what it was like to live as a recovered alcoholic, in 2011, or whenever, it’s worth being honest I believe.
I know that it bleeds of vulnerability, that it drips of weakness in places, or drowns you in the minutia of an obsessive, recovered alcoholic but FUCK, its my thoughts, its me, and were I to write it more strongly, or more proud, it would be a lie, it would be false, it would be the opposite of true. I may have come off as a whiney psycho path, but I don’t believe I could have written things any other way. The point is to chronicle the pain, to grow from these learning experiences. This journey of sobriety is a marathon not a sprint, and if I don’t learn from these experiences I’m bound to repeat them. Unfortunately I don’t live in a bubble or a vacuum, and most of my pain comes from interacting with other human beings, who may not appreciate being written about, or who may misunderstand what I’m saying. Mozart’s Opera was obviously misunderstood for hundreds of years, and I am no genius, just a recovering alcoholic trying to learn from his mistakes, of which their are many. I know in my heart though that I didn’t mean anyone any pain and that I’ve been truthful in all my dealings, and that is a huge step up from the old JB who would have manipulated, lied and angled to get his way. So though I’m still a work in progress, far from perfection, I know my heart is good, I mean well, and though the blog may be personal, even though written in anonymity, these events will pass quickly, as the personal complications are all temporary, whereas the lessons learned and derived when looked back over can be permanent and hopefully shared and become wisdom for more than just my selfish ass, or whomever else they affect right this second, they can last longer than the situation, hell eternal really, you never can tell. Mozart’s best stuff is only now being played on a regular basis, hundreds of years later, and nobody has a fucking clue who the original woman who motivated him or cursed him as it were ever really was. And also, hell, he was using his real name, lol, this freaking blog is anonymous!
So yeah, somehow these thoughts dominated my mind as I was watching the Opera last night, that I never intended on upsetting anyone with my writing, ever, but that no matter what, I must remain true, continue to write, and be honest, and just know in my heart that I mean well, that I am ultimately a good man, and that if it’s misinterpreted, or critiqued by people whom don’t like me for whatever reasons, all I can do is keep on keeping on, staying sober no matter what.
Mozart was a mason too, I found out, who knew? I bet he wishes he had the word “fuck” to throw around, that would have changed an Act or two I assure you. lol…
Sooo in closing; here’s another poem pulled from the wreckage of my now distant past:
Careless Self
Quit ripping my heart out,
    Stop feasting on my flesh.
Ignorant of the pain I doubt,
    Every twinge, or twitch or breath.
Strikes horror through my soul,
    Nervous system is nervous again,
Loving you takes a toll.
    The dank of folly, the essence of sin.
Lust, camouflaged duality,
    We’re not even kind to ourselves.
Separate motives, same reality.
    Truth unopened books on shelves.
– Jared Bryan Smith
JB Smiths Blog - Author @ books4free.com 