At some point you have to stop talking, you have to realize that no matter what you say you’ve most likely said it before and it’s pointless to continue on. I’ve filled this world with the hot air of random thoughts for so long, I’m surprised people still listen when I speak. I mean I wouldn’t if I were you. I get into conversations with people and I pay attention to what they are saying and to what I am saying and I completely make no sense at all. My mind is that of a war field with explosions and screaming - thoughts dying painfully slow and hideously fast. I cannot keep up with the insanity I have made within me.
I think it started with thinking, that was my first mistake. How god gave me this dysfunctional brain and retarded heart I’ve no idea. Who in their right mind would give me a voice, give me a chance, give me the opportunity to share this insanity. I mean I literally make no sense. If you are reading this, I suggest you stop, turn off your computer and scrub your brain with a stiff bristled brush. Thoroughly.
I have somehow made up this imaginary life for myself, this existence that makes breathing barrable. Drugs did such wonderful things to my mind, alcohol gave me such a stunning false sense of pride and ego, the weed brought a quietness to my insanity and cocaína, don’t even let me get started on the wonder drug. It all faked me into everything I am not, everything I forever wanted to be, everything I loved and hated, into my father, into the ugliness I once was.
I was cursed with this mind and I must own that, this ability to write my life away, to sit patiently and stay focused. Granted I cannot spell, nor retain smart words to make your imagination run wild with what I say, but I can write. I can vomit all these ridiculous thoughts in my head onto this page and share them with great fear of being judged. And really why fear it, you know it’s happening, so why fear it. Why not soak in the glory of being thought of, spoken of – there is no good or bad so it really doesn’t matter what is said, it’s all just free advertisement.
I am speaking of myself right now, the most important one in the room. Well next to my ego and you of course, oh and god and all that you have to say. No no, please continue, I’m good at listening, I’m better at listening than speaking you see. Remember when I tried to have that conversation with you and I fumbled and spewed idiotizms. You asked what was new or how I felt about certain things happening in the world and my replies were those of someone who has eaten mass amounts of paint chips. Remember? Remember I tried to sound smart and failed miserably, I tried to sound spiritual and that came out like a ton of bricks landing on plate glass windows.
I used to think I was so smart, knew so much about everything. I used to think I was kind and loving and generous and fair, I am not of these things. I have worked on myself, grinded against stones to shape me, dragged myself up mountains so tall they seemed to have reached outside the atmosphere of possibility. I have cried myself to sleep at night in dying prayer to grow into being someone of merit and truth. I did all this and more, all in the hopes too quiet my mind, my desires, my selfishness and I wound up here, in front of this screen, with you.
I have always ended up here, whether it was a computer screen or a spiral notebook, a napkin I found in my glovebox – I’ve always ended up here. Writing about ideas and dreams, hopes and pleasures, experiences and thoughts that have haunted me. Alone in these moments with screams from the battlefield, chaos and fear, love and happiness tossed into a blender and poured out over white pages with blues lines. All of it empty, every word, every thought, lifeless. I do not live in the “real” world, I live behind my eyes, watching from afar, pondering of what it could be like to live.
And then I had friends visit from LA…
One I’ve known since my 20’s, the other I had meet once in a parking lot outside a Best Western. My parking lot princess had me a little off, our first meeting was that of 15 minutes 6 years ago, I couldn’t help but covet from the corners of my eyes. I know not how to act to well, I fumble around new people and seem to be a bit over the top at times. Seeing the other was like being home again. I’ve missed home something heavy these last couple years. The people, the streets, the life, the electricity that flows through the air - it has gotten me lonesome and longing for change. They asked of my life and I told them of my plans to live in my van and travel, told them I was looking at plane tickets to Morocco and Japan – they questioned my sanity.
How far would you go to seek a new life? How far would you go to be in love? To follow the voices that scream your name to get your attention to push you in directions that are covered in shades of black to where you cannot see. How far would you go for the happiness, the real true heartfelt happiness. Not the money or the prestige, not the comfortable bed and shiny shoes or gratifying sex. The true happiness. The one where you're completely alone yet have never been more content in your life. The happiness that has you holding hands with vulnerability and trust. The happiness that lets you live in the moment, where nothing else exists and you are ok with it all cause your heart is full.
I have been forever skeptical of this happiness being true, there was no way in heaven or hell that any of that was possible. Happiness was meant for others or it always came at a price, happiness was something bought or stolen. It wasn’t free, it wasn’t given to you by the world, it had to be manipulated or counterfeited, captured and kept. I had no idea that it could be more than chasing woman and money and getting high. No matter how many times I had come across this conclusion throughout my life, I still had no idea this kind of happiness was possible.
And it was fear that lead me astray every time from that fascinating concept, it has always been fear keeping me close to recognizable and comfortable and secure and safe. I always thought it could be more than a concept and at times it has been, fleeting as it was. Not until I let go of all that holds me back will I know it's true gravity. Safety, security, familiarity, these things my fear tells me are true but are nothing more than some screens too keep me conforming and contained.
We set happiness to the side to preserve our longevity, the safer I am, the more stable I become the longer I will live. There are those that throw this idea into the fire and live fast and free and think not of tomorrow and I am envious of those who do so. I am in love with those who have no fear, I am drawn to that beauty. Sitting behind my desk, blue heughs from a Word document burning my eyes, slouched down in my seat with scattered typing. Waiting on an axel to set me free. Liquidate my holdings, sell my securities, kiss my mother goodbye. Drive all the way to Northridge to stare at her a while, off to Austin to see my sister, Greenpoint, NY. to be fascinated some more by my long-time hero. To risk everything, which is really nothing cuz permanence doesn’t exist. To just feel that freedom, that true happiness only love can give.
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