Month: September 2016

Runaway Train

traintracksmountainstrainoutsidesomewherebridge-14f856dad59eba5807dca40fd8c0fb19_hAs if a storm of indignation befell like hail from the heavens, emergence of a menacing silhouette ferociously ruptures the horizon.  It’s coming for me – me alone; its illustrious chanting renders resignation into a trance; an infestation of enticing pheromones tortuously taunting and teasing – saturating the atmosphere as the notion of crossing over intensely increases in appeal; far more formidable than remaining aversely trapped at the mercy of everlasting insanity.  The tiny sliver of land where I stand is now steadily shaking underneath tired feet; an earthquake of despair defining this crumbling of reality.  Crisp, autumn air meticulously prodding and biting at the vulnerability of rancor ravaged flesh; I can sense the end is near – this borrowed body all but terminated.  Time is of no existence in this plane of awakened unconsciousness; potion drained from the venom-ridden bottle coalescing with blood pumped from a heart cast in stone takes the stage for an all too familiar tango; dancing as one through the veins of oblivion – proclaiming the audience irrelevant and the trivialities of this world no more than a distant figment of imagination.

It is here I’ll stand alone – covered in the blood of battle; it is here I’ll face the fear –  supplying substance for the sweat; it is here I’ll confront the demons – shedding these tears I could never fully comprehend; it is here on this bridge I embrace what destiny has prepared – for better or for worse; to be granted perpetual passage into an alternate realm where darkness overcomes; to declare my one last foundational cry out to the gods for relinquishment of any prominent power or persuasion; that they may bestow me diversion from traversing the precipitous portage generated in my wake – and so I stood, patiently waiting with no distinct notion of a response; murdering the last glimmer of faith in a god I cannot grasp an understanding of.  So I just stood – almost in silent solitude for the places I have been and the truth I had arrived at.

I commit to holding my high ground overlooking the park where I innocently created memories as a child – much like an eagle majestically mounted on its perch viewing the world from a distant and foreign perspective.  Vigorously pushing present reality aside and sentimentally reverting attention back on a far simpler time, I reminisce and relive glimpses of the past that are rapidly firing on all cylinders.  They breakthrough my disillusionment and appear like a slideshow in the forefront of a now tainted stream of awareness; pondering how every pulsation of my heart, every step with these feet has led me from being that child with infinite dreams to a man shattered at the seams; recurrent botched efforts to gain tangible focus on the definitive turning point and lock it into the crosshairs of my clarity scope; that single second in time I seek above all else where everything I once desired expired and exposed the first perforation leaking down into a bottomless void.

history-lists-8-things-you-may-not-know-about-trains_istock_000021551059large-eMy wavering attention quickly shifts back to the present moment; back to reality or whatever semblance of it still pertains relevant – these tracks and the impending collision with a fate yet to be determined; the massive fusion of steel and brute, deadly force barreling forward; its course to inevitably intersect with the ground I have chosen adherence to.  It’s surreal staring straight down the barrel of mortality; to know it could all be over; to mourn what I could miss; to no longer experience – to plead my concession and allow the void to swallow me up in the ultimate compromise for sustainable stability.  Abruptly a blanket of peace overtakes my being; a rare quieted mind; an unknown solemn spirit – despite all the mess and regardless of the agonizing internal conflicts, I felt a sigh of relief amidst the violent event transpiring in my presence.  Deep in the core of my being, if only for a second, I accepted the coming moments to be my last; that I’d draw one deep final breath into my lungs and exhale into a domain of the unknown.

Suddenly silence sank over the landscape and my encounter on the bridge swiftly turned much slower in motion, as if the world was stuck buffering and any semblance of connection was lost in translation; icy water trickling through the rocks down below merely left to be sensed by the detection of moist eyes; flapping of feathered wings sending ripples of energy through the air and crashing off my chest like blows from clenched fists – I felt a vitality blossoming in the chaos; resurgence of what it felt like to be alive – and almost as quickly as it arrived, the train passed me by and continued on track toward its destination; seemingly unaware of the power it manifested; obviously oblivious to my sickness soaked soul – and so there I remained holding the high ground mere inches from its might as fate barreled by and invigorated a dying spirit. 

imagesidvj2rjuBut at my conclusion of confusion, this fresh spark of life was quickly smothered out by a supplemental realization; discernment for the probability I could never refill the void inside me that was rapidly depleting with the passing of every second; that this distinct feeling of freedom I crossed paths with could very well have been as good as it was going to get for the lost and the broken – so sticking with the cognizance of my new self-diagnosed reality, I edged my way over to the side of the bridge.  Almost in ritualistic mockery to the gods I felt failed me, I turned my back to the abyss and gazed upwards in surrender to a baby blue sky.  I obeyed the overwhelming urge demanding its desire for me to let go; to finally hand over the control I had so clearly lost; to allow gravity the chance to showcase its guidance.  Continuing my contempt for the faith I had lost, I lifted my arms and spread them wide while simultaneously shifting all weight backwards, transferring my fate into the arms of its embrace; it was now that I felt authentic freedom – virtually weightless in mind and body; and as I descended down from my conflicted higher ground, the baby blue sky slowly faded as I welcomed the shift into sanctuary of the black.   

Restart This Heart

restart-heartPinned to the sidelines; cast curse on the stars; written an ending; cashed in my scars; detested myself for this mind’s misconnection – total betrayal through misguided direction.  Counted my blessings, no matter how few; scaled up the mountain to seek peace in the view.  Traipsed through the valley where darkness seeps in; hunted by death and conceded the win.  Escaped from its clutches time after time; soul searching through grime as I climb from the slime – adding powers of showers which rained from above; washing clear smut to make room for the love; but still most of all, hope carried me through – when totally lost and knew not what to do.  There must be a reason, for by skin of these teeth; I countered the spiral from way down beneath; breathed in fresh air; felt warmth on my face; vowed no return to that ill-fated place. 

c95b708a5a5f4acf87e7dce318db1315But no sooner than free I fell back in despair –  my fortress of rubble; my grim, dreary lair.  Escape a mere fiction, absconding a dream; deemed to endure its harrowing scheme.  “Where did you go? You thought you could leave?” It taunted my soul and adjourned my reprieve; inhaled me back in with no chance to break loose; seduced and reduced to bear the abuse.  Shackles and chains and poisonous rains; fire and coal that burned through my soul; shreds of the dead breaking into my head; the frontier of fear was clearly right here.  Begging and pleading in hopes to go free; I haggled the demons mastering me; “Just let me die!” I solemnly cry; “I can suffer no more on your blazing hot floor!”  They pointed and snickered; demonically whispered, “you don’t like the heat? Try a violent blizzard.”  A hell that’s now frozen from words I had chosen; a place of disgrace I’m forced to embrace; through all of the hardship, through all of my might; the odds firm against in the arduous fight. 

There’s no easy solution to elude its pollution; from being immersed, ensnared in its curse – for to sustain liberation from despondent damnation; seek a total revamping of soul understanding; it’s bound to get bloody and darker at first, but that’s what it takes to break free of this curse; that’s what it takes to find a way home; to experience life and not be alone; to really find purpose and meaning and grace; forever free from that deepest, dark place; an ultimate unbounding from a cycle of crashes; to restart a heart and rise from the ashes.         

On with the Side Show…

circus-sideshowWhispers of doubt echo throughout the chambers of a mind infested by darkness.  It’s not a pitch black however – not a complete absence of light.  It’s an intrinsic black that manifests when tired eyelids give way and collapse under a vibrant, cloudless sky; a ghostly ambiance of gleaming desperation committed to break through the delicate barrier of flesh severing opposite worlds.  Perhaps that’s why the whispers remain whispers and haven’t yet materialized into screams; they still perceive the presence of light – a glow which hosts a breeding ground for hope; a dingy darkness draped overhead birthing seeds of suspicion – an apprehension that perpetually recycles itself into a tenaciously dull roar and emerges again, sentenced to remain incarcerated within the mind of a mad man.

c8a0c0174beb3d18cedea00e823e605fNevertheless, the show carries on despite a seemingly inexhaustible search for authentic purpose or meaning, despite the mental barriers and personal trust issues; emotional traumas, wide-ranging mood swings and impulsive personalities, despite being thrust into the Southern California culture which heavily highlights human beings at a mere surface deep level; every heartbeat delivering confusion about who’s real and who’s only prerogative is to win the popularity contest; fueling self-worth based on the amount of people willing to jump under the sheets for a night of meaningless, sexual escape – deciphering between who’s willing to get dirty and actually fight in the trenches instead of breathing in an existence which is evidently based upon personal appearance, money, power or prestige – it’s high school revisited; this clique inundated, horror-drama that permeates throughout the soul of recovery communities like an epidemic.

To some this suffices, rendering enough sustenance to be considered living in “recovery” from a life shattering addiction, almost unaware of the side show sickness slipping subtly in to infiltrate weakened defenses; a disease, magnificently mutating; cunning enough to distract the mind from its primary purpose – gaining personal freedom from the bondage and throws of chronic self-destruction via the aid of whichever poison we fancy;  it’s hiding patiently in the shadows, waiting and striking out, unsuspectingly, at the next obtainable weakness in hopes to commence the cycle all over once more – whatever vulnerability that turns out to be; to keep us at bay from discovering the deep-seeded purposes behind an overwhelming desire to escape and numb out a life we never truly desired or could determine how to fit into in the first place; from unveiling the secrets to filling the void and creating some self-worth without substituting one unhealthy behavior for another. It’s an exhausting path to remain tirelessly trudging along for a group of the highly emotional.  Is it realistic or more along the lines of a far-fetched fantasy that people of such nature can ever fully see past these distractions and prevent them from occurring within a society in search of serenity?

toddler411.pngAs my children began to enter the realm of somewhere between full on baby and tiny human being, I thumbed through a manual at a local book joint entitled, Toddler 411.  Essentially, it’s the low-down on how to survive anything and everything you might encounter during those vital yet challenging, early years – as it turns out, most of the advice and strategies suggested for dealing with a growing toddler can be easily interchanged and wielded to maneuver through a community recovering from substance abuse – especially when these personalities are all residing under the same roof; so in essence, having children of my own bridged the gap, serving as a strong pre-requisite course in living amongst a society of the behaviorally challenged – myself included.  Similarities that are actually quite astounding when broken down with the primary exception, of course, being a substantial difference in age.  Regardless, we all need each other; we all learn from each other – no one person holds the coveted secret of life, but we do know the importance of sticking together – conflicts, personality clashes and all, so we can continue our pursuit for the greater good.

Answers – answers to questions that may not have set answers are my kryptonite and by far the biggest hurdle to leap on this arduous quest in search of uncovering the purpose for my existence; I just want answers; I yearn for understanding; cursed to traverse the world with a mind that automatically internalizes, processes, and analyzes every little detail – I crave to gain a conscious awareness of what the point to all of this is – do we simply exist going through the motions, engaging in the obligated mundane because it’s required for survival; what are we surviving for? What is the endgame?  Is there an end game?  I had attained all the goals I set for myself by the age of twenty-eight and subsequently lost it all by the time I turned twenty-nine; materialism and obsessively constructing an image to be admired from the outside looking in was just not cutting it; I was still miserable; I was still dead inside; a shriveled soul with a rock hard heart; I numbed it all out and pushed it away, and finally one day I came to – it was all gone for real. 

2231744073_babdf84c8c_bIt’s hard to accept the side show circus surrounding the recovery community, but somewhere deep down I understand that it’s my personal responsibility to make a choice – either get sucked into it or don’t; learn to live and let live; keep fresh the memories of how I got to this juncture in my life and what I’m really trying to accomplish as I carry forth on the journey – to find the balance for a better way to live.  So, on with the side show, for with every side show there comes a featured act – let us remember to exercise patience and stick around long enough for it to take place.