10.30 free write

How can I feel so much that I find not the air to say, why did I bother to come so far just to bear the same ache

Hands they shake for the fear inside, whose is the voice calling from the heights, what is the noise you hear that sounds as cries

I thought I saw a light but then it disappeared, to a voice inside that tells me to stay near, but all I can feel is this, ever screaming in my ears

Day and night it does not silence, and I wonder what is thought of their violence, who am I that any voice speak to me gently or of love, can not you see, feel what I’ve done?

Moving forward hurts the most, because still the pain haunts you wherever you go, you see it is as such, and it seems that there is no one, and nothing that can be done

It feels so still like the end of everything, that at the end of our will there is no new thing to bring, around every bend found only more disappointment, still the voices sing to stay

What is there here for you, do you feel the way that I do, impulsion within, an irrational feeling and drive, as though the clock’s ticking was stealing something more than time

The words don’t fit together, I want to throw them all away, it never really gets any better, but I need to believe anyways

I ponder how can it be that not everyone feels this way, regardless if it can ever be explained, the time has come that I’m paying for these mistakes, because you can never walk away- only deal with it in different ways

I can’t tell you anything that you’d like to hear, and times still on horizon are destined to draw nearer, but still the voices say that I have to stay.

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10.26 fragment

Images. Endless slowly flickering images. Stills that you never remember seeing before, yet every cell in your body recognizes it- it is familiar. It is time that was yet has not come to pass. One minute you’re somewhere near the beginning and the next minute you’re at the end. The details in between get rather blurry. It was somewhere around then that I realized I could not bear what I saw, and the entire illusion of identity was destroyed in a death so profound that I desperately desired to break every still image that was , and erase it’s character from time’s memory entirely. They say there’s no such thing as time, yet we see it everywhere we go, everyone writes their stories, or of which were written long ago? The pieces are all on the floor now and the vain grasping of life is of pain inviting death. Choices. Choices. They repeat. Will the pain away. My understanding is so thin and the line between them is my downfall.

So now we see the truth.

10.24 fragments

Striving so just to do the next right thing as you go, there’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said before, these feelings are old and they don’t change anymore

At the end of the day, all are just as tired as you, bruised and broken, entirely human, we call out to help and from above, when you can’t help yourself, it’s hard to give or feel love

But it was there, locked inside my chest so tight, as I’m holding my breath in a losing fight, we teach ourselves to fall, we each learn how to let go of it all, losing grip of everything we have ever been

Living is hard, death would be rest, nobody asked, but here we are regardless, all the pain suffocating is testing of patience, but the reasons are lost when we pay it’s high cost

I need help to believe that we can do anything, but don’t know where to go, to give away so you can believe in hope, but how do I lie when I can’t even hide the emptiness in my own eyes

We reach higher, we try harder, work farther, and when we get there struggle to veil that it was to no avail, that hands fall and everyone will fail you, that you can’t outrun what brought you here from the beginning

As though everything between the start and end was whispered to your heart long before you began, we’re in a difference place now, no one finds a way back or out, but still the questions chase because the answers are no better than the pain that first instilled them in our being

What do you want me to say, it’s no secret that we are made whole to break, all we’ll want in the end is someone to hold all the pieces who will understand their shape

But I’ll wait all day and night to even say a word, because I’m bitter and angry inside and there is no comfort, but it’s all we have to offer one another, but most times I wonder why even bother

I see the pictures in my mind, sending chills upon the skin and down the spine, but makes me feel no better for what lies ahead in time

All always only screaming that it’s running out soon.

10.22 free write

How can we feel so much but not find the words to say, how do you live without tomorrow when you’ve never been so afraid

All in a free fall, never knowing if there’s anywhere to land, and at the end of it all, to only understand

A place where it can make sense, if only for a day, for even the hand of providence can’t spare us from dismay

Time creates a longing for what can never last, deepening it’s hold each day, knowing nothing ever can

Do you wonder where you belong, all while you see that the fairy tales are all wrong, and only our pain tells us each that we live on

I want to take what I cannot, can we find a way to live without the clock- I tried to make it stop, sometimes the right is still wrong

Look who’s nearly a stranger in the eyes, tell me can you see the ways that they cry, without a single telltale sign, and wondering can they see mine

All the secrets we only weep, what do you really feel in the silence that you keep, maybe we are never truly free, perhaps all life is is a bittersweet memory

All that’s left to seek for, now, is something to make it all worth it somehow.

10.20 p.8

The days fell into the usual routine of simply getting through the day, solely so that I could have the privilege of sitting on the grass and having someone to finally talk to about everything– hoping that I would be understood. While I’m not talking about the rabbit, it still showed up each night as I sat down to make my petitions, and would pass the hours with me, as he ate our front lawn. Sometimes the rabbit would already be there when I finished up the evening tasks, others I had to wait a bit for him to come.

The months passed and I continued to tirelessly declaim my life as well as the lives of the many around me. I persisted in making these requests made known, ever followed by my closing entreaty to die. I began to see most if not all of the prayers answered, save for the latter. I began to notice many little things come into my life that I had needed but hadn’t asked for- very specific things- as though to say that the thoughts I was not even fully cognizant of were heard as well. The things that I needed to live were continually provided, of which had not escaped my notice, but deep down I confessedly struggle with genuine gratitude for the means to carry on. In regards to things that don’t really affect my life, I’d been having such good luck that I felt I was due to get hit by a rogue satellite dish.

After some time, the rabbit would not come in the time that I would sit and wait for him, so I would start talking to God around then, and only then would the rabbit promptly arrive. I began to like to imagine the rabbit as God’s way of saying that He was there and listening- or at least prepared to listen to one of the most acerbic human beings to walk the planet.

There came to once be a few nights that the rabbit had not been as much as seen, and I sat out late into the night, particularly angry and probably crying something like a six- year- old trying to understand why they would “never” be able to have their favorite toy in the world back. It’s no secret that my world has been in ruins for some time now, and despite the natural job and propensity of mankind to endure under absolutely any circumstances, I have yet to find the means to do so in such a manner that makes it appear better than the alternative. So I was very upset again, and I was sure the rabbit was just sick of me, likely everyone else, probably even Jesus Himself was holding it against me that I couldn’t just get over it and move on with some kind of an at least fake smile. Why wouldn’t that be the case… because that’s how *I* felt.

I remember I was sitting in the dim glow of the streetlight with my head against my knees pulled up to my face, studying the concrete. Rabbit hadn’t shown up at all in nearly four days and I figured he had gotten a girlfriend or something. I started apologizing to the air for who I was, because clearly it was wrong and the very quality of feeling overtly ashamed of oneself was even further undesirable. I don’t know why I felt the inclination to try praying to Jesus in particular- they’d always told me in Sunday school how He was always there or could be your best friend or something like that… it sounded childish but ok.

There was a bare spot at the edge of the grass from where I and the rabbits would often come down the hillside. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit when rabbit would come barreling down the so fast he would lose his footing and spin out a little.

“Jesus, I really need to see You right now, to see with my eyes that You’re still here with me, that You’re not mad at me or sick of me too. If You’ll show me, please send the rabbit right now- make him come out of his hole and go right to the patch of dirt there-”

I paused a second as I said it, thinking it was ridiculous to think God would send some rabbit out in the middle of the night to sit on some patch of dirt just because I asked for another sign. I lifted my head and looked out in front of me to see the rabbit there in the streetlight, on that exact part of the dirt, looking at me. He stood up on his hind legs and studied me quizzically, as though he didn’t know what I was doing or why the fuck he was out there at one in the morning. Something about that moment said more to me than all the tests before and also seemed like something out of a movie in its execution. But all I wanted to know was that if my life was effectively over, if God was mad at me or not.

I knew I could likely get a billboard and I would doubt again next week. Everyone said I had no faith- but the problem was that I felt the definition of “faith” itself had been transmuted by wishful thinking and optimism, solely to give American Christians something to hope for- even if it was in vain. Faith that what? I don’t doubt God’s ability. I fear the means towards His eternal will. They were rarely comfortable ones. That was my problem in getting along with most Christians. They believed in a feel good, “things will get better,” God who was always working to make our lives happy and fulfilled. It felt blind. That wasn’t the world I saw. That wasn’t the world I felt. Life sucks and always does. But I’d learned that the hard way, because I used to be blind to the world around me, blind to truth, and honestly- relatively happier for it.

10.17 p.7

I can make conjecture as to the reason, but any even vague desire to write has completely evaporated from my life for the first time in years. Perhaps it’s because life is shifting again, inspiration has become a thing of the past, the usual and lame excuse, or that all things have their season, but I would guess it to be more apathy or fear of the inability to quite convey the personal significance of the last part of the leg of the story that I was sharing; Thusly, I’ll venture trying a new style of writing, using the wonderful technology that is talk-to-text, and hope to get unstuck in having somewhere to vent, without weakening the point too much.

The last part of that period of time’s occurrences that really influenced me to think to write about in a different fashion, happened about 6 to 8 months after the beginning of this time. The part that really bothers me about trying to write this- I should really just let go because it’s still irrelevant to the reader- but let’s just say that I had been sick for quite some time, Of which worsened to an unprecedented degree and it would be very difficult to say exactly the nature of how bad things have been. But ultimately I spent the greater part of my days for the year sitting outside, often late hours into the night, And if I wasn’t listening to music I would sit in silence or talk to God, lots of the latter considering I knew now that He *was* listening to me – or at least to the vast majority of the things that I say. But I was really sick, and nothing I did could improve the situation at all. There was no question in my mind and hasn’t been for sometime as to if I wanted to die or not, I knew it, And I decided that I would just talk to God until I could basically talk him into it- Just like the story of the persistent widow. So that’s exactly what I did.

I have made some mistakes- as we all have- But some really fucking big mistakes that will very likely without a miracle haunt the rest of my life with consequences that I’m not sure can be compensated for nor undone. And I’m not talking about the long mental health history, multiple hospitalizations, suicidal tendencies, or other ensuing addictions I decline to discuss- to be clear I’m not trying to evoke sympathy here, I’m trying to draw a little history or point that is very difficult to draw out in one simple post. But ultimately after all these years the situation comes down to there being things in my life that I personally as a human being cannot live with, and have not been able to come to terms with or just get over it- much as I have continued to live on despite them daily for years. I seriously hate this paragraph but I’m not going to delete it.

So I spent a massive amount of time talking to God, telling Him about everything that had happened and everything that got me to this place, asking Him all my questions, and essentially making my case for why He should let me die – to bring about the means of my early quietus. Surely, since He knew me better than anybody else on this planet that He would know that what I said was true, and that it was my desire because there was clearly no other solution. Surely He of all people would understand what I have struggled with for some time now- and that the means that I thought could help me have just recently fallen through- and my whole fucking life is turned over again, etc, etc. Maybe I am dramatic, but I say nothing more than what is the truth, maybe I just feel things too intensely, maybe I always have– but I’m not here to debate this. Well, God basically met me again, in my camping out to nag and petition Him to death- for I greatly fear the future even more than what has already come to pass – of which I saw coming long ago. Though it’s generally assumed, I spent my sittings by myself and have barely seen nor spoken to anyone this entire year. No, I am not proud of this but I’ve grown tired of seeking the things they speak of in friendships that almost all leave you still feeling alone and empty. But that’s my problem I know.

I know we all joke about it but I’m not really sure what exactly would be the definition of a nervous break down, but this period of time was the closest to that that I have ever been in my life and I legitimately felt like I was or had lost my mind. Maybe that’s just a normal part of trying to work through really hard shit that you feel you can’t live with- But there were also medications and physical components largely exacerbating a gaping spiritual and emotional problem. One night I was feeling particularly scared out of my mind like I was going fucking psycho and I was praying and I asked God to bring me some company or somebody to talk to or just fucking sit with me in silence, And as I said it this rabbit hops up and plants himself on the lawn in front of me. He wasn’t afraid of me – he just chilled there- and nothing would make him leave, not music or the sprinklers going off or people walking by, not even cars or any of the things that usually would easily scare a rabbit away. I have lived here and know very well the behavior of the coneys here, for over eight years now and I’ve never seen a wild rabbit that acted in this manner. This rabbit – who was a little bunny at first- came and sat with me every single night for months as I continued in my quiet time, and eventually that one rabbit multiplied into three or four at times, but there was always that particular one that would get very close to me, sometimes so close I could have touched it. It grew to be particularly comfortable with me.

10.13 free write

Have you ever been so sick, you were sure you were going to die, like surely this is it and you should say all and goodbyes

Have you ever cried your tears, so long it seemed like years, surely you’ve used them all up, but still they reappear

Have you ever borne the pain of a loss that you can’t control, or something come into your life that’s stolen more than its toll, and time goes by but the wound never heals, you never stop trying, though trying not to feel

Have you ever been so sure that it’d be more than a tidal wave, the kind that destroys everything, but still you hide it away, as the tides never stop their stay

Who could love a one so imperfect and marred, not what it once was, less beauty and more scars- we all have a way with time it seems and you know that we all feel these things

Have you ever loved someone more than they’d ever know, and wondered all the time if it ever could’ve been so, no it cannot be, they would not love me, but who could ever know if they never see your soul

Have you ever been so hungry for nothing you can see, knowing that there is no food that can satiate that need, the moment you realize that it always will be, that we’re digging around and pretending

Have you ever felt so much shame, that there was nothing you could say, driven a long ways to nowhere’s cliff edge, contemplating just going off the ledge

Have you danced upon the heights and fallen to the depths, the lows a thousand times as long, stealing your last breath so you hold it in your chest

Yes we all feel these things.

When I was a child I did not know, that the emptiness inside would only grow, and as the walls fall down, all of life crashing around, you realize there’s no future, all you have left is now

It’s so hard to make promises, it’s harder here to believe, when you finally see a light, it disappears it seems- so if you died tonight, what’s in the moment of your dreams?