Ailie Blunnie

Songwriter :: Singer :: Musician

Prayers and Feminine Wiles

Posted by on Jul 13, 2017

Prayers and Feminine Wiles

Hi, I confess, I might have got a bit carried away being a serious-musician in the last few blogs – with my forthcoming album of serious-musician music. I want to go back to the old-style rambly ones for a minute – is that alright? I confess to almighty god. [And to you, my brothers and sisters] How are things? How’s the summer going? Any craic? I hope you’re well. That opening confessional reminds me of something: I went through a phase of saying an enormous number of prayers before bed as a child. Did anyone else? I can remember one night in particular when I was.. it must’ve been 7 or 8 – around Communion age – counting all the way up to 150 Hail Marys. I was praying for my parents not to die. Because I thought that the more prayers I said, the more God would listen. I was really proud of myself for being able to stay awake. And you know something, they didn’t die either.. so if that’s not rock-solid scientific gospel evidence.. :-) There was a lovely comfort in it though, I have to say.. repeating the same prayer over and over. I was a mega-worrier as a child. Like lots of children. The existential trauma of it all. I’m still a bit of a worrier actually, especially when I’m hungover. Last Sunday for example, I pushed the boat out the night before – took a shine to the whiskey, ginger and lime promotion that was on – and by the end of the Sunday evening, I had my head buried in my hands and was doubled over in utter hopelessness. (My sister will confirm it). And it struck me.. it’s only with the grace of God, and hangover-busting homeostasis, that I don’t wake up like that every day of my life. The brain is such a wonderfully precious thing. As you know. It mystifies me to think of it encased in our dark skulls, never seeing the light of day, and yet constructing every colour, sound, taste, smell and touch of your reality. And it amazes me also to think of how phenomenally different people’s realities are from each other’s. And how we get on with each other at all? It makes me think about the level of care and respect it deserves too. “Alcohol, fun though it be, is nevertheless a depressant, Ailie”. That’s what I’ll be saying...

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