Songs For Your Day

It’s a strange phrase. “What have I done?” You read it, and think immediately, (I do. I’m guessing you probably do.) of the man with blood on his hands, maybe over a dead body that he killed in anger or stupidity or both, looking at them, muttering the words.

And, on the opposite side of the spectrum, you have Tim Kasher, muttering and screaming it about a man with no blood on his hands.

Weeks ago now, I saw Cursive live for the first time. I’ve loved Cursive since highschool–in fact, they’ve sat comfortably at no. 3 on my all-time top 5 since 2001–and I’ve always been afraid that they’d split up before I got to see them, as has happened with pretty much every other band on my top 5.

They ended their set with What Have I Done?, and the entire sentiment reverberated, and ever since has echoed and echoed.

I’m 26 now, and beg the question; I wonder what blood might be on my hands, whether from ending or saving a life; I wonder if there is any at all. What have I accomplished? Who have I helped? Have I made the world any better? I want the answer to be yes, and include a litany of people who feel improved by my actions or words.

Today, I asked my father where the point in life is that you harden against the world, where you decide you can’t change a damn thing? If there is one. I feel right in the void where the man in the song feels:

Stranded in Ann Arbor with a flat tire
I watched the sun sadly set
Any younger I may have wept
Much older I wouldn’t have noticed

I don’t ever want to get to the point where I don’t notice, but some days, I’m tired of weeping for it all.

Copper and stars,
christopher earl.