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Heart Fragile Like a Flower
Some things are so beautiful
That even if you realize
They have the potential to hurt you
Not through any conscious volition
But just by being what they are
You can't help but love them anyway
Your heart is fragile like a flower
You loved the beautiful iris
Even though you once believed it could make you sick
You loved someone who gave you the gift
Of saving your life when you were young and troubled
Someone who seemed strong
But broke your heart by being made of glass instead of stone
You are fragile like a flower
And that makes you beautiful
And better than the many harsh things in this world
Even though it also makes you terribly vulnerable
Even though it makes it all too easy
For you to be crushed
I love you Cie
~Wanda~
Wanda's notes:
Cie told me that when she was a little girl, perhaps three years old, she contracted the flu. When her mother said that Cie had caught a virus, she thought of the irises growing in the yard by the house where they lived. Cie believed that smelling the irises made her sick, but she didn't blame them. She still loved them. She believed that just because their pollen made her sick didn't make them bad. It wasn't their fault.
Cie's bipolar disorder seems to have onset when she reached puberty, although she may have had it all her life. She was bullied very badly in school. As a troubled teenager, she started self-harming. On the radio, she discovered music by the band AC/DC. The music made her happy and the fact that the band members seemed to be somewhat outcast types themselves made her feel that she wasn't alone.
Cie developed quite a crush on AC/DC's frontman, Bon Scott. But she always felt that the band's founder, Malcolm Young, was a kind, comforting personality. She felt that he would welcome rather than reject an outcast like her. He had a friendly face and an accepting attitude. She liked those things about him.
When Bon died, Cie was crestfallen. But she continued following the band. The more she learned about Malcolm, the more she liked him. She found it admirable that he took it on himself to call Bon's mother after Bon's death so she would hear the truth from a friend rather than from the news. Malcolm always said this was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he did it anyway. This is only one example of the kind of fundamentally decent person that he always was.
Cie related to Malcolm's struggles with depression and alcohol addiction. She admired the fact that in spite of these issues, he always kept his obligations to his family and his band mates. She also admired him for being monogamous in an industry that encourages Bacchanalian attitudes.
Cie has said over the years that she wished she could have found her Malcolm Young; meaning someone who would be decent and faithful, warm, intelligent and interesting, sensitive, gentle, and with a bit of a wacky sense of humor.
It also didn't hurt that he had killer eyes, a cute face, and a shy, humble demeanor, although he could be something of a pit bull when challenged or if he saw a threat to someone he cared about. Guys like him certainly are few and far between, and any woman lucky enough to have one should hold on tooth and nail.
When Cie found out that Malcolm was not only terminally ill but the essence of his personality had been wiped out, it devastated her. She found herself wishing that she could (her words) "Put him in my pocket and keep him safe."
Perhaps stemming from her desire to heal and protect Malcolm, Cie found herself feeling a physical desire for him as well. I'm not a psychologist, but this makes sense to me. She was horrified at herself, because she has always been the type to respect a person's marriage and would never consider being a home-wrecker. She expressed her (very raw) feelings in
this wonderful poem. It's a painful read; you can hear her heart break. But it's also excruciatingly beautiful.
Dear Cie, I am truly saddened to hear of this horrible thing happening to such a good person. Please don't beat yourself up any more. You are feeling pain because you feel love. That's the hell of it. However, there isn't enough love in this world. We must take it where we can find it. You found it for this person, and even though he doesn't know you in the flesh, I think that he can feel your love on some level and it may bring him comfort, which he desperately needs. I truly believe that.
I hope that maybe my humble poem will show you that someone is on your side; you are not alone, my friend, although I know you feel that you are.
Love,
Wanda
He wasn't very big, and he was genuinely a nice guy.
But fucking with him was a bad idea, because he would bite back if attacked.
As they say, it isn't the size of the dog, it's the size of the fight in the dog.
In the end, it was no human assailant or even the demon from the bottle that took him out.
It was something that looks like this:
This is fucking scary, because nobody understands how to stop it from going awry and destroying a mind and a life.
This disease (
Lewy body dementia) is particularly scary because there doesn't tend to be any way to predict it. Malcolm Young's family seems to have a history of cancer and heart disease, not dementia. It tends to strike younger people (average 50's and 60's) than Alzheimer's. Malcolm is 61.
Cie says that this diagnosis was a bigger punch in the gut than hearing that Malcolm had cancer or even that he'd committed suicide, because it destroys the personality, not just the body.
So, to recap for the
rude person asking if this is now the Malcolm Young blog, maybe it is, at least temporarily. What's it to ya? He deserves at least that much respect, and our teammate deserves to express herself, including bleeding out her soul if that's what she needs to do.
Wanda
for
Team Netherworld
