•Expect nothing, and you will still be let down.
•Trust no one, especially yourself.
•Everyone leaves, but it’s no ones fault.
•Even things that are meant to be can fall apart.
•You will always learn from the past, in the future.
•Even the gentlest touch can hurt an open wound.
•Never expect others to return what you give.
•Life is the journey, death is the destination.
I need to clear my head
More accurately, I need to allow my head to fill so that the air can clear, hopefully by the time I get home.
Driving is perhaps the only way a person can truly let their mind go; without having others ask why you look mad at the wall.
You can have music, or silence, or scream out your frustrations as you take the bumps and inclines of the road.
Even the bumpiest roads seem like smooth sailing in comparison to the roller coaster we call “life”.
Sometimes I like to share my drives. Mostly others choose not to. Once again echoing life; where I want to share, none wish to share with me.
And so, I go alone.
I shaved my head last night. You may think that impulsive, and I won’t lie and say you are completely wrong. However, what started as a simple “reboot” of my hair after years of coloring became so much more when the clippers touched my head.
Suddenly I was struck with image after image as my brain struggled to comprehend the reality of what I was doing. Brendan (the elder) in the hospital. Rebecca smiling with her buzz cut. Several images of other people who have shaved their heads for various reasons.
As the buzzer continued I realized there was a common thread: Bravery. These people fight against biology itself, and be it physical or mental, whether they live or reside within our hearts, they are brave. I am brave, too.
So now, what started as a purely cosmetic reboot, has become an inner revolution. It is my intention to maintain the buzz for the rest of the year. Partly to celebrate the bravery of those who have touched my life, but mostly to remind myself every day; I am brave.
I swallow a handful of pill three times a day so I can pretend to be some semblance of normal. I shake at the very thought of human interaction. I miss people. It’s been this way long enough to feel like there was never anything else. I cry, but I question if it’s really pain that brings the tears. Perhaps it’s the echo of what everyone feels when they look at what I’ve become. Perhaps it’s the silence that fills the void inside me. Nothing brings me pleasure anymore, not pure and simple pleasure. My family shines in the darkness, as my darkness threatens to drown them. Silent screams fill the nights. Wishing I could disappear without repercussion, without leaving pain behind. Some may exist being alone but not lonely, I exist lonely but not alone. A painful existence indeed.
The void calls my name like that of a long lost lover, teasing over each syllable with the promise of peace. Whispering blissful notions of the simplicity of non existance. Curling its softness, its blackness, around me like a blanket. Enticing me with it’s sweet nothingness. Singing it’s silent song until I arrive at the edge. There, by the cold light, I can see the void. I can feel the claws as the begin to dig in. It’s voice growing in desperation as, once again, I falter at the brink. Even as I step back from the edge, the void steadies me. The darkness is patient. It knows it will get another chance. So it continues to sing my name, waiting for the day I can no longer resist it’s call.