Memento Mori: Entry #1

 May 30, 2013

BETWEEN ME AND THE WORLD

ENTRY #1: And it’s All Gone

  

            It’s amazing for me to see things that were written at the end of last year and beginning of this year. A lot of miscellaneous writings some filled with despair and loneliness but to my surprise a lot were littered with random dreams, goals and aspirations. My bi-polar dreams of a better life, taking me from the most northern regions of Santa Rosa, California- a city I just fell in love with the minute I stepped foot on its soil-to a East Coast journey all the way to NY where I was plan to write and teach and build an eco-friendly bar right below the very loft I live in. I want to see my name in print, bold print with my name or some pseudo-moniker I decided to write under. Doesn’t matter, so long as it’s me and it’s mine. Things were going to happen for me this year and all the scattered puzzle pieces of me were going to finally fit together, I wanted so badly to be whole. I’m 32; I’ve never been in one piece and as I like to say, “Hell, I’d like to try it at least once!” They say if you wan to make God laugh, tell him your plans. My everything has been pulled from beneath me-imagine the magician’s trick where he pulls the table cloth from beneath a beautifully decorated table, laced with fine pieces of china and delicate crystal wine glasses and genteel old-fashioned plates trimmed with 14k gold that are family heirlooms laid next to meticulously polished spoons, forks and knives-past from generation to generation. However, instead of the trick going according to plan, the magician pulls the table cloth and it all comes crashing down to the floor. Every single, delicate item on that table destroyed. I feel as if each of those items represented a single dream, a wish, my desires and longings deep from within my soul, no one else. I didn’t pull the table cloth, there was a violent tug but it didn’t come from me. Matters not, what’s left is laid out on the floor in broken pieces of once symbolic items now lay unrecognizable. Precious glass now garbage on the fucking floor, another mess that needs to be cleaned up. AGAIN. I’m tired of trying to pick up myself up and start over. What have I done in this life that is so awful?  It becomes tiresome for me when I have to suffer the consequences, for example, standing up for myself. Then sadly, I look to my left and glance to my right and see women figures standing idle in the shadows with their index fingers raised to their lips urging me to “hush”. It is that image that stays at the forefront of my mind and I just can not be that way. I guess I will continue to suffer at the price my own protection. I’m tired of fighting. I pray for peace of mind. Will I have the strength to rebuild even the idea of those hopes and dreams? I don’t know. I’ve lost everything. I try to find what’s left of my dignity through the wreckage like washed up marine debris. Nothing is left. No one is left. It’s only me on this ledge, teetering, do I let go and take the plunge or slowly back away, surrender and let life enroll me in the dull, mundane-day to day task endured by the hopeless and live life without desires??