Today had marked a difficult day for me. Like any other day, it started out fairly gloomy given the fact that I am not a morning person. I didn't think much would happen within a day, introspectively speaking.
I've cleaned out my room just to have less and less material things to be attached to when that time comes around. For when I plan to move out and move on. It won't be soon, but it's best to start soon than never. There are too many things I'm in love with. I am a strong believer when it comes to objects having meaning and a soul. That's sort of the reason why it's hard for me to buy something from an antique store unless if it's something of dire want or need. To be honest, I think I've hoarded most of my stuff because they've become treasures within time and through my life. In the process of cleaning, I've come to the conclusion that I had to get rid of some clothes that I never wear. It's harder when I think of getting rid of clothes that I've fell in love with through each phase I had; predominately, my goth phase. I haven't yet gotten to that point. I've also been contemplating the idea of selling my bass.
My bass resembled any other electric bass, but she was her own being. I've given her the name Rene. I used to play her to some songs by Zombie Girl and Rene was the singer of the band. I couldn't think of any better name. I remember, I was 10 when I wanted a bass so bad enough that I used to save lunch money for it and every week that passed by, I was scolded for starving myself just to have that dream of having a bass at hand. I needed to make that dream a reality. I used to save pictures of my dream bass on my PC.
On my 13th birthday, I remember coming home from school from a disappointment of a day. As always, I was a loner and kept to myself. No one noticed me and no one knew it was my birthday so that made it all the better. I never liked drawing attention to myself or sitting awkwardly as people sang me to me. I came into my room to put my bag away and Ipod away. I found a bass leaning between my bookshelf and bed. After three years of begging for a bass and saving ads from Guitar Center's website, there it was; she sat for however long she did in that spot and waited for me. It was unreal, it was a dream come true. Her black trimmings and white interior. Her steel strings shimmering in the dimmed room light. She was a classy bass and she knew it. She sat there wanting me to desire her. There, I spent my 13th birthday playing my bass; creating riffs, learning how to read tablatures... I didn't care about the rest of the world. It was just me and my bass-- Rene.
Later, I collected books to help me play well enough to play in front of people. I wasn't at all good to begin with, don't get me wrong. I wasn't trying to sugar coat it either. It was a new relationship, I had to learn how to play her right. I didn't want to pay for lessons and give it up later. I regret even saying that now... but I used to bring her to school, I used to play her during class and all that. People mistaken her as just a regular guitar, but she was no guitar to me. She was her own instrument as she was her own being, too. A lot of people just gave me the "you're not so good, you suck" and that didn't discourage me. It gave me the opportunity to work on it some more and make it possible for me to one day play on the streets. Heck, I used to play outside for free as was. Just hanging out in the front or back yard, just playing whatever I had written. No one bothered us. It was just me and her.
With time that passed, I grew to realize that I had to focus more on school than anything else. Senior year was approaching and I had to really buckle down. The only time I used Rene was to do my final project for choir and that was it. I managed to pull through with her on my side. I made three songs at most during the time I've had her. Very mediocre, and I'm embarrassed of putting it up online. But it was the start of something special. She helped me build that courage to play in front of people, disregarding their own judgement. I graduated highschool and went straight into college. I hadn't had the time to play her or even pick her up anymore. She was collecting dust and she cried out to me when I walked into my room and said "I'm bored". I felt terrible for her, sitting there without anything to do. Years, I've thought about giving her up for the sake of looking to find someone to play her. I hadn't had the guts to do it until today.
Today was a difficult day for me, as I've stated before. I packed up my amp and bass in the back of my partner's car and went to the nearest pawn shop. I hesitated at the thought since last night. I didn't want to give her up, but I knew she would be making use in someone else's hands and being more mobile than hanging in the same spot as she's been since I've had her. I also needed the space in my room and I didn't want to just stuff her underneath my bed and forget about her entirely. I pulled her over my shoulder as I got out and stepped into the shop. It felt like 20 minutes of waiting until I was served. I know it was significantly less than that but it felt like forever. I had to bargain with the clerk and tell him that it was worth more than what they could offer. If I wanted anything more, I would have not even gotten money for it. I waited and waited for the guy to put all the information into the computer regarding Rene. She sat on the counter, just staring back. "Where is this place", "where are you going without me", "I want to go home" is what she would say if she didn't speak in bums. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I couldn't stay there any longer. I had to hurry up or at least occupy my mind with something else. I stared at my shoes for a while and then at the gun rack. Some guys were looking into buying a used gun. I don't blame them, they are pretty expensive. Then back to the clerk. He handed me the money and a receipt and I left, not giving Rene one last look. My vision was already foggy at that point. I sort of regret not giving her one last look. But I felt disappointment and sorrow from her. Although she was inanimate, I felt, in every way possible, that she was real. I cried about her in the car before we left to run some other errands. I didn't want to seem distant from my partner, just... a big portion of me has died for fiat money.
To end the day, I went outside to feed the cat and say goodnight to her, too. On the wall, I had found a small green frog. It didn't jump when I reached for it. Nor did it feel nervous when I held it for a while. They normally poop when they're scared. I always knew that green frogs symbolized forward movement, for they couldn't hop backwards. They represent good luck, happiness and success. This whole day, I've been put off because I had given up a huge piece of myself and my past. I didn't think of what was going to happen in my near future. I've got a job interview this coming week and I'm getting ready for it. I'm also planning to get another tattoo to represent my bass and how much she meant to me. Who knows? Maybe the frog came by just because it wanted to and I came by because I wanted to. It may have been fate, it could have been a coincidence. Or I just may be very superstitious. I believe that the frog was there to remind me that there is good fortune headed my way for being an adult about a particular situation. I'm glad for that though. We'll see how this week turns out, now that there's a shimmer of optimism.
