Over a year… The last time I contributed anything to this site was over a year ago. Sheesh…
I’ve no way to express how completely void I’ve been of any motivation to write. And, it’s a shame, too. Because, I’ve experienced a great deal that I would have loved to have written down.
However, I’m thinking it might be a decent idea to start up this thing, again. Something bit me, I guess. I read over it a good bit, and felt a huge rush of nostalgia. Got a little teary. That, and I’ve really missed sharing whatever things I may feel with whoever may be interested… Though, I can’t say I blame you too much if you’d prefer not. I can easily bore someone to complete tears. And, I’d like to avoid having anyone cry by my doing.
ANYWAY
“Hello darlin’. Nice to see ya. It’s been a long time…”
And, you’re just as lovely and wonderful and all kindsa great as you ever were. Har har.
It was a struggle to get to sleep last night. So, I was up for a greater part of the morning. Maybe, around 4 or so. My thoughts were completely turbulent, flames burning brightly in my head. I lied naked above my covers, fingers running through my hair, only a candle faintly flickering and the fan blowing; My simplicity and serenity. I should have found peace in these moments. But, I didn’t. I fought to writhe with frustration; Feverish.
I’ve become increasingly lonely in these past few months. My heart is still warmed by who I come to meet and what I see. But, my way holds no similarities to those around me. I operate on a completely different level. I see this world from a completely different perspective. I want different things. I find less and less people investing in what truly holds worth; what holds worth by my standards at least. And, there is no progression towards a sound character, sound soul, sound heart, change for the betterment of our human disposition. It is solely focused on the surface level, superficiality, sex, drugs, technological progression instead of altruistic progression. Where are the Robin Hoods, the Gandhis, the John Lennons, the Mirabais, the John F Kennedys, the Cat Stevens, the Mother Teresas, the Che Guevaras? Where have all the revolutionaries gone? Seemingly, everyone has given up.
But, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is the way.
I can’t say what this passion really is. It’s love. But, it’s so much more than that. And, I would never be able to express that to you or instill that in you.
—
Two nights ago I met a man named Bobby.
Me and two of the loveliest friends I’ve had the pleasure of having, Melodie and Zachary, went to Waffle House to get some coffee. We moved and laughed and talked as we normally would. We decided to go outside for a cigarette and to enjoy the night air as we normally would. But, were pulled into a very strange situation. A young man was sitting a few from us on the curb seeming distraught. He was extremely skinny, with wild blonde hair. He’d occasionally rest his hands on his knees. I would glance at him and feel obligated to find if he was alright or not. But, I left him be at that moment. Zachary, Melodie, and I continued to enjoy our night. The young man got up and went to sit behind the wall on the other side of us. We didn’t really think much of it. Some time passed when a man, whom I would later find was simply a neighbor, and a single mother peeled into the parking lot around ten thirty or so looking for a runaway. They said he’d walked about two or three miles from home. They described the young man sitting on near us and expressed that his name was Bobby, that he was struggling with happiness at home, that he was a paranoid schizophrenic. We told them that we had seen him and that he had moved behind the wall.
He walked inside with them. They ordered food. They ate. We didn’t really think a great deal of it, only felt compassion for Bobby. They came back out. The mother was stumbling. The man was trying to coax Bobby into the car so they could take him home. He was silent and rigid, he would not go with them. Melodie and I watched this scene for sometime, feeling as though we should help in some way. The mother stayed near the car, wobbling and mumbling. She had clearly been intoxicated in some way and hardly concerned with the situation or Bobby. I got up and went to her to make sure she didn’t need anything. When I walked up to the open door, she was seated in the car with her legs hanging outside seeming somewhat startled by my approach. I asked her if there was anything I could do to help her. She slurred a thank you and got out of the car abruptly to search for something; a cigarette. She had difficulty holding her things so I helped her fish out her pack. She had difficulty finding her lighter, so I handed her my lighter and held her hands while she tried to avoid catching the wind. She then started to express to me her hopelessness with Bob.
“I just don’t know what to do. He used to be happy.”
For a while, the man sat behind the wall trying to coax Bob into the car. Impatient, the he came back behind the wall and asked for a cigarette. He told us that Bob had done this many times. He’d sometimes be gone for days. And, told us the last time he did this they had to stuff him into the trunk and he banged and fought the entire way home. Eventually and very strangely, the man suggested that I try to talk to Bobby. So, without reserve, I got up and walked over to him. The man and the mother left me to try and get him into the car. But, that wasn’t what I wanted to do. I simply wanted to make Bobby feel like he had someone there for him, genuinely concerned for him. I asked him if everything was alright. He looked at me. His eyes were sunken in, red, and filled with light tears. He shifted uncomfortably, glanced back to make sure they weren’t around and then asked my name. He said very little after I told him. Eventually Melodie and Zach came to sit with me as well. He was quiet, but he would smile on occasion. The man came back over, and was visibly irritated. He continued to prod and press Bob. He was incredibly cold and I became more and more disgusted by it. I started to laugh at the things he said. Bobby still didn’t budge. He wasn’t going with them. He got up and ran to hide. The man and the mother gave up and left him.
We found him sitting underneath a tree. We sat with him for a while. He would have small, random things to say. He’d high five Zach. He’d ask me and Mel questions. After a while of this, we went back into the W-House, enjoyed another cup of coffee, and then left. I remember feeling so awful sitting in that booth.
On the way home, I felt my guilt and frustration grow. I wondered where Bobby would end up, what he would be subjected to, how lonely his world would be. Where did Bobby’s peace lie? What’s more, I could do nothing to help any of this. I’ve no understanding of how it’s justified for a person to be dealt this kind of hand.
I couldn’t sleep that night. It was another night of distress and feeling less than worthy of my passionate nature towards all.
—
I ask, heaven, Shangri-La, Paradise, A Great Magnet, can you see what I see? If so, where is the health? Where is the happiness? Where is the revolution? Why are there so many who have to suffer?
I’ve to question what the lesson in this suffering is. What are we trying to be taught? What are we supposed to hear? I don’t want to see it anymore. It’s heavy on me. I’m not as big as I’d like to be. I will do less than what I would like to do. And, it’s become painfully obvious.
I beg, send us an angel.
What’s more, none of this matters to most. It doesn’t truly penetrate them as it does me. And, I am made to feel absurd for it. It’s become exhausting. And, I have to wonder if I really am absurd.
—
As the prospect of attending a university closes in on me, I’m becoming overwhelmingly disgusted with the thought of pursuing something that will do our human population absolutely no real good. I’m at such a loss.
It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to share any of my thoughts. I’ve not had the motivation recently.
—
I’ve had it bad recently in the area of romance and what not.
I’ve found that I come back to centrality when I’m not distracted by the prospect of romance; when I’m alone. I have always loved so passionately and so deeply. And, I’m so easily pulled in due to my naive tendencies. I was conditioned to be this way, and though I would have it no other way, I’ve become somewhat exhausted with the potential of a lover. It comes to a point where I’m expecting so much more than most could be willing to give or have the capacity to offer. And, it’s unfair to expect anything from another. My views of romance are old-world. And, impractical and somewhat rare it may be, I’ve had it before. I’m at a point where I find it difficult to accept less. Which is why I am beyond discouraged in regards to being courted. And, I find myself completely unphased when I’m approached is this manner; more so than I ever have been. And, it’s nearly liberating. With unconditional love, I hardly feel the need for a lover to validate this. I don’t see the use in it, not that there aren’t plenty of beautiful gents. I’m just void of the romantic inclination towards anyone anymore. There have been times where it almost feels forced. And, that’s not how this love should feel.
If it comes to me again, I want to feel it just as intensely as I had before. I remember Benji being so horribly striking that I couldn’t avoid reaching out to him. I remember feeling an insatiable need to get up and jump and dance and skip and squeal when Benji so wildly told me he was in love with me. And, it was perfect for the entire time he was here. He was untouchable. Not a single person consumed me with passion the way he did. And, though I fully realize I will never have another Benji again, I want love to be just as pure and exclusive and overwhelmingly intoxicating as this one was. The beauty of it was perfect, and exactly what love should be. If it were to be anything else, it would void the purpose entirely.
Again, I went out on my porch this morning, and the weather was incredible. I had a little reggae playing, and was dancing around like a fool with a Marlboro in hand. I felt more like myself than I had in a couple of weeks. I stopped suddenly just to sigh and smile. It was terrific. Just breath in and out. It’s all I could do not to skip, filled completely with warmth again. And, I started to dance again just to dance.
-
I’ve learned a great deal. But, I’m still learning. And, I’ll keep teaching in the hopes that I’ll still be taught. What pressure may befall me is nothing I can’t handle. Because, I know and feel what truly holds significance in this world. I’m completely surrounded by it. And, I’m endlessly satisfied, gratified, hold the deepest sense of security. I’ll always be held in awe by the beauty of this place, and in the simplest of gifts.
-
And, even if I’m waiting in vain, it’s okay baby. And, even if it takes you days, it’s okay baby. Because, I’m feeling fine. And, I’m always going to feel this right.
I woke today a lot earlier than I had hoped that I would; around 7:30 or so. I tried to fall back asleep, curling up underneath my blankets, wrapping my arms around Clementine. Not so long ago, I had warm arms wrapped around me, gentle hands curled in mine, candlelight and your voice filling the room. Sublimity had finally fell upon me again. A knot welled in my stomach. A half an hour later, after realizing that dozing off just wasn’t going to happen, I decided to get up. I crawled lazily out of bed and slipped on a cotton shirt over my shivering body. Somewhat of a ritual, I made my way to my porch to sit out in the morning light. There was a faint chill in the air, Fall not far. Beautiful. Memories drifted in and out; incredible moments of happiness and peace, and the loss of love, guilt for mistakes made; not knowing whether I’m making another mistake to feel it’s right to keep trying for you, or completely let you go; I’m waiting to be shown the way. That, and questioning whether or not I even deserve it, whether or not I’ve a right to wish for it.
I’ve lied in silence a greater part of the day, quietly pensive under heavy lids and heavy thoughts, lonely. I’m not sure what has come over me. But, I’ve felt less than hopeful these past few days. I am so desperate for another’s faith in me. My soul begs for the understanding and the forgiveness and the unwavering love that I so unwillingly give, and was once given. I could find the beauty in simplicity of love; in the gentleness of the breath slipping from the person sleeping next to me, in the sound of their heartbeat, in the chimes of their laughter, in the light of their eyes, in the wholesomeness of their soul, in the glow of their skin… It takes only the radiance of their human nature, their heart and soul. And, nothing more. But, this is not the case for most in young hearts. It takes a thrill, a perk, a benefit, a particular status, a conventional standard of acceptable aesthetics.
One of my biggest mistakes is being under the impression that everything is as I would perceive it myself. It just isn’t the case. What’s more, it’s dangerous, considering my impractical and, by moderns standards, unrealistic view of most things. I romanticize more than I should.
I wish for peace again, whether that be in a lover, in an experience, in a new place, in a decision, in an ending…
I have no idea where I’ve gone. I’ve lost a great deal. I’m regressing a great deal. I still love the same. But, I’ve become more accepting of abuse. I’ve no will to fight. I will burn out, and it will be okay one day. I promise. Until then, I will do what I can to soothe who may need it and smile when I can and fulfill those who may find happiness or a home in me.
I’m not a great person. I’m just a gentle person with a strange set of eyes. I wish there was more empathy about. But, there’s not. And, it’s okay. I might get angry, I might feel wronged. But, at night I still feel guilt. I still fully admit and recognize that I am defect and that I do not deserve what I have or what I had. I take full responsibility for every ounce of grief I receive. Some may call this a disease. Some may call it humility. It’s simply the energy that moves me.
Last night, around twilight, I sat on the edge of a concrete abutment smoking a Turkish Royal, and watched cars go by. The drone of wheels on wet pavement, the smell of rain, the deep colors of the sky were all immensely intoxicating. I breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh. It had been the first moment of peace I’d felt in weeks. At once, I was hit with a realization; I should have died in those moments months ago. I should have died at the peak of happiness. I had everything. I had love coming from all sides. I had no reservations about where I was or what I was doing or where I was going. I felt the deepest sense of security. I felt tops.
I’m in a different place now. I feel like a joke. I feel like I solely occupy space; nothing more. I don’t contribute a fucking thing. So, I’ve been wasting days. I’ve been trying to stay lost. I’m in limbo. As much as I wish to be, I’m not good enough for you, or for anyone. As much love and compassion fills my heart, my head will never be in the right place. I’m no good, and I can’t say whether or not I ever will be.
My struggling with letting go is simply of desperation; the human way.
