Let's get pensive

Some say 'Knockin' on heaven's door' is the greatest song of all time. Some prefer 'Hotel California'. Me, Pink Floyd's 'Wish you were here' is top of the list for obvious reasons. Refer, if you will, to the opening verse, which gets me every time. Every time.

So you think you can tell heaven from hell, blue skies from pain
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail
A smile from a veil
Do you think you can tell

A brilliant rendition is by Fred Durst and John Rzeznik, and while I may be a bit skeptical of Fred Durst's abilities to sing a ballad, it's truly beautiful. And it gets you thinking, can we really tell heaven from hell? Can we tell blue skies from pain?

For some, escapism to a different country and disappearing from friends and family represents heaven, when in reality the escape provides the hell that excessism and immorality breeds. For others, a rigid regiment set by strict parents is what they have been brought up to see as heaven, when in reality, their mental health suffers in hell.

Everytime I hear this song, I wonder the same thing. Am I in heaven, or am I in hell? I'm hardly one to complain, having little to no money problems, but to be fair, that just means I have more time to find other problems - the same kind that comes with comfort - family, emotional and physical. Did I choose to come home, or am I trapped here by my own perception of heaven? Am I swimming in a fishbowl?

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year after year running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears.

Wish you were here.