From "Why can't I be good?"
by Lou Reed
I want to be like the wind
When it uproots a tree
Carries it across an ocean
To plant in a valley
I want to be like the sun
That makes it flourish and grow
I don't want to be
What I am anymore
In many ways I feel as though I have just awakened from a fitful sleep, in other ways I feel that I have slipped over the edge of a precipice and have only just begun to climb back up. Honesty, displaced for so long, has the dizzying effect of making one feel simultaneously empowered and liberated on one hand, and overwhelmed by reality on the other.
There are moments of my life remembered as though I had awakened to find manna on the ground around me, and there are moments which struck as a thousand raindrops or snowflakes, a sudden thunderstorm, or a swim in cold water. There are also, unfortunately, moments remembered as though I had stepped in filth, stumbled in a pig-mire, or fallen into an abyss.
Why can't I be good? Why is it so hard to consistently make good choices?
It's gotten a lot easier since I got honest. Thank God for honesty.