Out of the blue...book that is...10/24/2010

Airline air...what is it that is so inspiring? Maybe it's the "cage"...trapped, in a world of no distraction interesting enough to free me from my thoughts. So I follow my own advice and inquire within...

Edge of the world...that's where I reside, mentally everything will soon change despite any outside influence. Something must give. My dreams POUND on my door...Happiness raps like rain on my window pane, beckoning me to come out and play. Like a child, grounded for misbehaving, I dare not leave responsibility ~ this punishment ~ for bad decisions past ~ and risk a worse fate.

Yet, if tomorrow does not greet me, where am I left? Gone. Simply gone. No legend, no legacy, no contribution beyond the fleeting moment of loss. What cripples me? Fear I face regularly, so I doubt this is the culprit. Laziness? I can barely sit still... Why do I feel trapped? The relationship I am in only leads me down a road to an unnamed place, but that journey is not my exclusive outlet nor does it demand to be. I don't need hand-holding ~ maybe moreso a traffic conductor, yelling at me when the light is red, but they still wave me through the intersection to the safe left turn I yearn for. 

At 32 years old, I am losing execution time. A pressure motivated, over-analyzer of a perfectionist. When is good, good enough? Rarely. But without executing a less than perfect plan, I execute nothing! Why and How is it possible that this is acceptable to me? Can I not see that the end result of a perfectionist life is a gigantic NOTHING? The little black book of opportunities mocks me! Not even because of the conventional use of such a thing ~ for this book will surely yield a much higher success rate.

Pursuits. Eight letters of evasion. Must I proceed alone? 

"Be anxious for nothing". I remember my mom citing this often, yet in reading her journals, she struggled just as I do. At what point do we learn to let go? For her, I don't know if it ever came before her life was over. On one hand, I'm anxious to execute, on the other hand, I am anxious to leave nothing behind. That the world will be no better for me having been in it. 

What change do I need to make for this to no longer plague me? Is it a page in the black book? Is there a calling I have not pursued or maybe have not even discovered at this point? These thoughts, along with a yearning to fill a void in my relationships rob me of sleep of my peace. And I only find peace in destruction's aftermath.I find peace in running all the time. Not running away ~ running to fix, to help, to solve. What kind of life is this? Not one for a husband of devotion.

disheartening

Wanting to be closer. As inside as it gets for an outsider, I resign to my fate - my infinity. In another dimension it'd be possible...happiness and me. But for now, another outlet will just have to be.

So much to give, but no desire to, unless it's for you. Stifling.

You? You're not ready, nor will you ever be.

Trying, but still dying. The story dreams and me.

fed yet starving

Why do the most dysfunctional appeal to me the most? Is it possible that I actually prefer disillusionment? I confuse myself...! Is this a defense mechanism to ensure survival? How strong is this fear of disappointment? Enough to ensure starvation?

I have attempted to rationalize, but I remain unsatisfied. Why? The clock ticks like the antagonistic plot of the works of Poe. Yet my standards become more impossible. Without outside influence, I cling to the most ill suited and merely subject myself to what's well. The prospect of being adored...a momentary fixation at best.

I have written optimistic dissertations of my past tormentors; accurate, yet few, of the noble. Peace does not impress...Inspiration emerges from the clarity of struggle.

I defy the accusation that I create discordance - or this relationship would be the same as those past. What I am accustomed to is not of my initial choosing, only my perseverance and patience - more deserved in this case, but in short supply. Once dire, I always manage to escape...this time, to another cage,  where the door is open - yet I stay inside...

What is free? When so many dreams are impossible alone; when so many priorities occupy the same ranking; when decisions reside in limbo indefinitely, awaiting sentencing from supporters.

Have I been imprisoned for so long that I have forgotten how to live?

flying furniture

Flashback to relationships past, I wake to yelling. He hit something so hard, I could hear from the 10th floor. I hope it was just her car...he stands between her door and it's body. She can't leave. I feel her fear. "You stupid f**ing whore!" he repeats over and over. It's 3:30am, he can't stand up straight. Some people need an overload switch. Wish he had passed out instead, for her sake, and my own. 911 and I figure out which intersection. Still in a haze with my birds-eye view. I watch over her, feeling helpless...remembering times past. Wanting to run to her, knowing I'd be next.

A neighbor walks her dog...not much of a deterrent. Fortunately he lets her go - police haven't yet arrived. The neighbor approaches her to make sure she is alright...buys the cops time. I'm elated when they arrive! "Don't send them away" I plead with her in my head. As she shivers, he comes out. Hurling bottles and insults from the 8th floor. Police and she go on their merry way. His resurgence of anger, begs return. Flying furniture. Very classy. Remind me not to park near that building. 911 again. Annoyed the first officer left...the second infantry arrives. They call back. Sorry, I can't help. Don't live there, don't have the code.

In between, I think of her, how I felt when that was me. Giving thanks it's me no more...I recall in vibrant color. Nanoseconds of history: So fresh, yet so stale. Rousing the fear from it's tomb into the sub-basement. Still too close for comfort, I write instead of sleep. Hoping her shivering soon stops. Knowing, when it does, her sobbing will not. Ashamed for his behavior, the booze is not to blame. A mere window to his soul. High on entitlement...jealously...narcissism...even shame! Different people, different drug, same game.

They never change. You do.

The cops are gone, his lights are off. I settle in. Pensively closing my eyes...hoping I remain on the 10th floor and the memories return to their tomb. This week has brought enough unrest already. Only one has found his peace...coincidentally, one I ran to in my own shivering moments. Grandpa, thank you for being a refuge when I needed you most. In Heaven is your reward I could never afford to pay.

stoplight pondering

Questioning what is confidently accurate and soundly set in my head. My world turned upside down. Expanding beyond my boundaries...the good ways offset the bad. Slightly deluded. I must take that risk. What still lacks? Healing? Spontaneity? Rejection? Affirmation? Discovery? Forgiveness? Fun? Romance? Refuge? Why do I seek where it can not be found? Must be content to be and only THEN pursue more. But contentment goes against the grain of my being! If I start small and learn gratitude, intimately, with it will come the foundation for contentment, I'm certain. What I have is all I need. What I have is amazing...

flourish

An abrupt change followed a year of exploration, of realization...not so abrupt after all. I flourish. Accusations of my ignorance of self are based on an irrelevant metric. What applies to one doesn't fit another. I've known who I am since I was young. What has changed is my reaction to circumstance. I flourish. Now relatively firm and confident, learning to let go and just live...be authentic and choose wisely...keys to coming into my own, becoming me. I flourish. Not worrying what others think, but not embracing those who disrespect. Shedding dead weight...what's left are few, but cherished. I flourish.

Finally in the sunlight, emancipated from serial voids. Having survived on the bitter, I cautiously sample the sweet. Consumption effects existence. Partaking accordingly. I flourish. Evil words, lost on me. Existing in truth, I pay them no mind. Unbeknowingly guided onto a new plane...I've discovered the obvious. Unaware, but certain. Interventions kept me safe, despite myself. Eternal education effectively aided by elective consciousness. What I've needed was here all along. In Him, I flourish.

anticipation

(late post from 2/5/10)

Tasting a peace I've never known, restlessness subsides for the most part, a sweet assurance, 'all is well or soon will be', subconsciously invades moments of longing...an opposite complement, yet our priorities align. In the pursuit of Him, together, we find ourselves. For me it's more a reassurance, for him a new direction and confidence in his identity. His virtues, life exposes and extols. This is admiration, not infatuation...I embrace the momentary fear, as soon it morphs into anticipation. With bated breath, knowing my glowing moments of life will come.