One of those moments where you see things a little bit differently. As if the
clouds are gone, as if you took a step off that cliff and now you see the stars
rushing before your eyes (before you go SPLAT).
Often I’ve had a (bad) day when I’ve felt that if I was any one else I know, I
would probably be stark raving drunk. S’course that is not how I operate so I
don’t spend my time that way.
But what am I? But doing the same thing as any drunkerd, different sword, same
purpose. To escape from the pain, to be free of that tiney little hell.. even if
for mere moments.
The drunk looks for his relief in the bottom of a bottle. Is it any different
then what I do? With this constant busyness, what purpose can it seve but furfil
that same cycle.
I’m not busy as I am, because I must be but because I wish to be. So why do I
wish to be? Yet what is there for me if I am not. I must learn to forget the
past, let it be the past as I look forward to the future.
Yet I cannot walk in the same way, the same patterns. Who do I kill but myself?
I’m not the one with problems, I’m the one people come to with problems.. That
is strange but it’s been fairly constant during my life.
And I have no problem with it, what else could I do but offer my ear?
Yet I walk alone, where so few may enter that chamber. Not of my own free will,
but of my surroundings I say to myself.. Yet it is a lie, yes if only to myself
that I may lie.
I’ve sought out the busyness of my life, until such a point I am nearer to
collapse. Because I can’t bear to see the same thoughts pass through my mind,
how else can I give myelf peace?
But what am I doing but wasting my life.
I once said, if not more then once said. That I could forgive almost any thing,
perhaps it is true. I don’t really hold any thing against any one, don’t
honestly know if I could. Save against myself, easely to forgive anohter but not
so easy my own deeds.
I say, the blame lay with her not with me
but does it not with us all? As I look back upon a time of my life. One where
pain and love were well intermixed. I see there that demon, that very demon.
What else can I do? But face myself, without a shield, weapononless.
There is no one else to hide from, there is no need to hide.
Why then do I kill myself in this endless toil? To drown in it as another man
would drown in Vodka.
To no more length can I hold onto the past, let it rest and be forgotton. I can
not walk alone into the future, be it through a valley of shadows or into sun
shine.
Face that terror, do not be bound by it but destroy it. See it for what it is,
and never surrender to it.
I feel in a way, as if I’ve been walking along on that road, ever so long. That
I did not see this steep drop in front of me, and now I tumble, down, down
through that abyss. And only GOD know’th what be on the other side.
To a new future do we embark, in search of that underscovered country, be it
ever so sweet, or ever so empty. Over the hill, through the valley, and out into
the light.
Where only the free may walk, free of there own terrors.
— the musings of my mind.
Perhaps I now know why that specter of my dreams, haunts me so.
