I don't own them, Aaron Benjamin Sorkin does. No suing because I have no money to my name... poor me. The song lyrics are an English translation of "La Califfa" from Sarah Brightman's CD "La Luna", and are by Alberto Bevilacqua.
"A Lie, an Omission"
by Rebecca A. Anderson
sniggles@claudia-jean.net
June 2001
~~~~
Don't believe, because
the cruelty of proprietors
has seen in me
just a dog, which
puts itself at your chain.
~~~~
I lied. Maybe not directly, maybe directly, maybe by omission, maybe just to myself. But I did lie. I didn't tell anyone about my illness.
Sure, I told my family, but I didn't even tell Leo until...
Well, actually, I didn't tell Leo, per se - Abbey, the Judas Iscariot of the Bartlet clan, did that. She sold my soul not for 30 coins of silver, but for my life. As if bartering with a life that may or may not be life in a few years was worth bartering with at all.
And now, I stand here, in the National Cathedral, staring at the spot where, just yesterday, I threw down a lit cigarette and stamped it out, intending nothing more than to show God that He has no more control over me than He has over anyone else.
How ironic, because He actually holds my destiny in the palm of His stellar hands. He holds in His hands the key to my MS, the key to whether I will live or die, the key to whether or not Abbey and I will ever behave like human beings around each other again.
I know she won't divorce me - we've come too far for that. But just once, I'd like to see her smile again. It's something I haven't seen in a long time, now, because we've been fighting.
A lie, an omission. Whichever it was, it's hell-bent on destroying my life, and the lives of everyone around me.
I certainly never meant to make CJ into my whipping boy, nor will I allow her to take the brunt of my mistake. I will not allow her to be crucified in my place, simply because she never asked "Is there anything else I need to know?" I will not...
And then, it hits me.
I have no control over this situation.
~~~~
When I cross the city
this hypocrite, your city
my body,
which passes through both of you,
is an insult at cowardice.
~~~~
I have no control. Only God does, and He's not seeing fit to be kind and lift the heavy covers from my head, where they blind me. He's not seeing fit to let me go free, to be who I am, who I want to be.
I was His servant on earth, I did His work and spread His word, and this is how I am repaid? I am not the Savior of our times, contrary to the parallels between my life and that of Christ's or Job's. I never wanted to be a servant of any kind, let alone one that is used and cast aside in favor of someone better suited.
Damn You.
They named the special prosecutor today, and I let Oliver Babish help call the shots. My prosecutor is the meanest, pissiest son of a bitching Republican scum in the Bar. Just like Babish declared it would be.
And so many are going to fall.
Not just me. Not just Abbey, or my girls. But people who are innocent, like Sam, CJ, Josh... Toby, even though the image of Toby ever being innocent is laughable. I know I have caused them nothing but immense trouble, and yet...
And yet...
A lie, or an omission?
It's my life, my illness. Whose right but mine is it to know?
It was Delores's, I realized too late. Too late to tell her. I do, in some ways, blame myself for her death, but...
She was a grand Dame. My big sister, the only one I'll ever have, even though she wasn't blood.
I wish she was here to help me through these trials, but...
But nothing.
She's not, and I have to live with this.
A lie or an omission?
It's up to the Jury to decide.
~~~~
You will find again
the most splendid possession,
a moment of sun above us
in search of you.
~~~~
The last of the sun comes streaming in through one wall of stained glass, flooding the Cathedral with light. It is beautiful.
So many things on earth are, and they are lost in frailty and fragility. Yes, I just said two words that mean the same thing, I know, but... there is no other way to describe it.
So fragile those things are, as if they would shatter with a single breath, a single movement.
Forgive me, Father, the desecration of Your House was meant... It was done in anger, bitterness, misdirected.
Please stand by me in the hard times to come.
Send Delores back as my guardian angel.
She knows it wasn't a lie by anything but omission.
Finis
"A Lie, an Omission"
by Rebecca A. Anderson
sniggles@claudia-jean.net
June 2001
~~~~
Don't believe, because
the cruelty of proprietors
has seen in me
just a dog, which
puts itself at your chain.
~~~~
I lied. Maybe not directly, maybe directly, maybe by omission, maybe just to myself. But I did lie. I didn't tell anyone about my illness.
Sure, I told my family, but I didn't even tell Leo until...
Well, actually, I didn't tell Leo, per se - Abbey, the Judas Iscariot of the Bartlet clan, did that. She sold my soul not for 30 coins of silver, but for my life. As if bartering with a life that may or may not be life in a few years was worth bartering with at all.
And now, I stand here, in the National Cathedral, staring at the spot where, just yesterday, I threw down a lit cigarette and stamped it out, intending nothing more than to show God that He has no more control over me than He has over anyone else.
How ironic, because He actually holds my destiny in the palm of His stellar hands. He holds in His hands the key to my MS, the key to whether I will live or die, the key to whether or not Abbey and I will ever behave like human beings around each other again.
I know she won't divorce me - we've come too far for that. But just once, I'd like to see her smile again. It's something I haven't seen in a long time, now, because we've been fighting.
A lie, an omission. Whichever it was, it's hell-bent on destroying my life, and the lives of everyone around me.
I certainly never meant to make CJ into my whipping boy, nor will I allow her to take the brunt of my mistake. I will not allow her to be crucified in my place, simply because she never asked "Is there anything else I need to know?" I will not...
And then, it hits me.
I have no control over this situation.
~~~~
When I cross the city
this hypocrite, your city
my body,
which passes through both of you,
is an insult at cowardice.
~~~~
I have no control. Only God does, and He's not seeing fit to be kind and lift the heavy covers from my head, where they blind me. He's not seeing fit to let me go free, to be who I am, who I want to be.
I was His servant on earth, I did His work and spread His word, and this is how I am repaid? I am not the Savior of our times, contrary to the parallels between my life and that of Christ's or Job's. I never wanted to be a servant of any kind, let alone one that is used and cast aside in favor of someone better suited.
Damn You.
They named the special prosecutor today, and I let Oliver Babish help call the shots. My prosecutor is the meanest, pissiest son of a bitching Republican scum in the Bar. Just like Babish declared it would be.
And so many are going to fall.
Not just me. Not just Abbey, or my girls. But people who are innocent, like Sam, CJ, Josh... Toby, even though the image of Toby ever being innocent is laughable. I know I have caused them nothing but immense trouble, and yet...
And yet...
A lie, or an omission?
It's my life, my illness. Whose right but mine is it to know?
It was Delores's, I realized too late. Too late to tell her. I do, in some ways, blame myself for her death, but...
She was a grand Dame. My big sister, the only one I'll ever have, even though she wasn't blood.
I wish she was here to help me through these trials, but...
But nothing.
She's not, and I have to live with this.
A lie or an omission?
It's up to the Jury to decide.
~~~~
You will find again
the most splendid possession,
a moment of sun above us
in search of you.
~~~~
The last of the sun comes streaming in through one wall of stained glass, flooding the Cathedral with light. It is beautiful.
So many things on earth are, and they are lost in frailty and fragility. Yes, I just said two words that mean the same thing, I know, but... there is no other way to describe it.
So fragile those things are, as if they would shatter with a single breath, a single movement.
Forgive me, Father, the desecration of Your House was meant... It was done in anger, bitterness, misdirected.
Please stand by me in the hard times to come.
Send Delores back as my guardian angel.
She knows it wasn't a lie by anything but omission.
Finis