The End of The Matter Pt.5

What do you stand on when time is poised to dismantle your body and your mind? How can the spirit truly survive without compelling means to withstand the wiles of attrition?
God help me for the comparative monster I’ve turned out to be, from who I once believed I truly was; the heart is deceitful beyond measured, who can know it?
Was I not the one who so confidently proclaimed that the true testing of a man begins when all seems lost and there is no longer any marked personal benefit in passing, who yet persists? And yet I have silently been falling away, for seasons amidst which all the forced resolve and fabricated passion couldn’t keep any fire alive with nothing to kindle it with: for dreams seemingly dissipate, imagination tires in its numerous disappointments, and time proves anything upon which any comforting feeling may ever have once been derived from- to be utterly unreliable and temporary.
I never previously grasped how implicitly customary it is with time to reach a point where one feels nothing most of the time: to desire nothing, to be passionate about nothing in particular, to feel deeply grieved or moved by nothing in particular- destined to result in striving to do nothing and settling for whatever is easily available and maintainable.
Because I had always lived knowing only what I had always known and experienced, I never could have believed that I could partake in the trading of any form of profound sentience in exchange for a type of degenerating, numbing and dumbing avoidance of deep pain.
Yet faced with questions and difficulties seemingly beyond my control or understanding- like swallowing glass for over a year straight before in some way deciding to shut off everything inside- I find myself having also become numb to the spectrum of any good emotion or its experiential recollection that was all my life so clear.
It turns out after all, I never really minded certain kinds of sadness as much as I thought, for I now realize that as long as I could still feel those things- I knew that I was still alive and somehow intact inside, and I could still also feel the highs that invariably came every so often. I could still get in touch with You and You could still get in touch with me; The way it had always been. Now there’s a wall I can neither scale nor seem to cease the continual subconscious erecting of. I never thought I could betray You; not by overt defamation or denouncement, but by a passive, subtle form of distance and indifference that I am now ashamed beyond measure to admit has slowly transmuted into downright anger and a type of hatred I never thought I could carry inside. For this unsoundness of soul I could wish myself to have never existed at all for my inability to stop its claws digging deeper into soul and spirit, as I continue to struggle with my previously unfaltering faith in You since I was a child. As if we hadn’t been warned before: How did everything change so drastically, so quickly?
I have seen Your goodness in the land of the living and been heavily blessed with Your favor for most of my life- despite unceasing hard times and hard days- and I have had the privilege of seeing far more signs and proof of Your existence and presence than perhaps most people would be able to recount. And despite how cliché I realize it is, in that our trials, sufferings, and disappointments in this life ought not to impact the measure of our love and relationship with You, I am grieved by the way the passing of this last year’s events have slowly eroded my faith, any childlike spirit left in me, and caused my heart to slowly and silently withdraw from your continual guidance and presence in such a way that I don’t know how to make my way back again, desperately as I have tried. I feel myself a philandering scoundrel for my waywardness and hypocrisy after the persistent testing and finally failing of the genuinity of my heart and spirit And I know not the remedy for a heart that has grown so terrifyingly cold and callous. No words could possibly say how deeply tormented, grieved, and remorseful I am for the monster I feel I have deteriorated into, or the slumber my once passionate heart has been lulled into. For much as we tirelessly cling to how life is so precious, and to be extended at all costs regardless of its quality or consequences- it was never death that was tragic to me, but as said it is the things that die in us while we live.
Until this last period of time I never could have fathomed the weight of the sorrow of the world that I now *feel*, or known just how much Your presence, love, forgiveness, patience, guidance, discernment, protection, and constant companionship have meant to me over my lifetime. I’ve never had to begin to realize what it would feel to live without You, until now, because I don’t think I ever have. I have felt how a day lived without the hope of a next life and Your preserving, doting provision on this side of eternity, is heavier than the great sadness I have always felt- despite anything this broken and grasping world has to offer, and despite Your continual hand of protection upon and before me. And yet somehow it has taken a hold with such a bitter weight of regret that I don’t know how to get back to that place, to trust you, to hear you, or listen. I hate the way I feel so much anger at You- anger that I don’t know what to do with but to direct at myself- as it is for the very things we are warned of and observe likely to befall in this life. As if I had any right to be surprised that life has ended up feeling as empty and disappointing as I’ve often refuted with imaginative dreamings and strivings of a future that was never any day but today, a love that never alighted, and dreams I’m still struggling to bring to fruition while working against the buffeting tides of reality and time. I feel as if I’m trying to relearn how to walk or even speak, in a language that is not my native tongue, but the more I have gone to mere men for help, the more broken and hopeless everything inside has become. From where did help come from in the days that it was so much more easily found? And most every elating hope ever felt in this life thus far has proven to also be counterfeit. The entire universe has been ripped up and rewritten in the last year in my mind and strengthened the bonds of confusion that have continued to dominate a growing body of unanswered prayers.
I hate all this unfamiliar anger I carry and I have so many unanswered questions regarding all that has happened, but the most haunting: do I really want the answers? Could I handle them or would it merely compound the excruciating conglomeration of things I have now seen and gained knowledge of only wishing each day that I could erase most of it from my mind? All that has been comprehended, dismantled, and experienced has stolen any peace or soundness from my mind, spirit, and soul. I truly don’t want to know anything anymore. I don’t even want the answers- they only broke my heart in a way that it finally stopped healing up correctly, leaving only a confused and disfigured mess of what was once a genuinely good heart.
Can I assimilate to this new universe, or will I break away to make the same supposed mistakes I’ve made before- simply for knowing that my guts will be in a perpetually conflicted uproar no matter what is chosen (as it ever has been) And returning to the old choices hurts less than what I’ve been going through- and apparently all for nothing. I tried to find what little magic there was left in this known world and ran against the grain for long enough to realize that there is little to no satisfaction to be had in going the way of most men, and yet in this is indeed a lonely road, though it usually seems as though there is no road that will not involve a different kind of regret, for much as ambition is a tireless road, after one has experienced flight it will be difficult for him to ever truly feel that two feet on the dirt is really living, much less home. And now I understand why my road has proven to be such a lonely one; despite that for enough years that I suppose it could have been taken for granted, I believed that I would eventually find some strange sort of counterpart who saw or experienced life similarly to how I had- someone who saw the same immovably cumulative significance in the universe or human life beyond simply living laughing and not thinking too hard on anything. Even knowing the latter to clearly be the only feasible attitude to have in life, I would be remiss to say I’ve ever been able to honestly adapt this way of experiencing life. Ultimately, these kinds of disparate spirits have a tendency to proverbially die young, and so become harder to find any remaining as time marches on.
Honestly, I’m writing this potentially whiny excerpt for me- no one else but for perhaps God Himself. For I fear these may be counted amongst the last honest conversations I may ever entertain again- because people genuinely do not care, and no one is obligated to. But I used to genuinely, deeply care- possibly too much- and I once ached with love and compassion and an investment in the hearts of those that mattered to me. All that seems so far away that it’s difficult to grasp presently that it was even In the same life, and it simply took me just short of *this* long to be fully broken in enough as to no longer be capable of identifying when or where exactly I ended and stopped being me, and began bleeding into a vast disarray of nameless panicked emptinesses and bloodied shards of rage and apathy. Maybe there’s no reason or means to keep any fire or spark of life alive anymore, and it’s never felt more appropriate to rip out this useless heart before it gets any worse, and just leave it here- forever engraved in words lost on the internet- before jumping in front of one of the many semis of opposing traffic on this ever narrowing highway. I’m disappointed in the world, unsurprisingly disappointed in people, in myself, devastated with the answers found, and not sure I can live with it all; at this point it feels like it’s all too much. Peculiar how you can have almost everything about yourself changed and yet somehow deep down, still wrestle with the same silent demons who seemingly lost and gained different types of validity as the story finally unfurled.

The End Of The Matter Pt.4

Looking back I do poignantly recall life as possessing the recurrent theme of feeling left, forgotten, or betrayed by most all of the people I had cared for. I simply didn’t understand why I so often felt this way-yet. I know this nagging feeling ever deep in my heart since I was a child is certainly not particular to myself, and have long known many share this sentiment and yet- not being alone never made me feel less so at the end of all the talk that more often than not felt too difficult to bridge the always seemingly palpable space between myself and everyone else, despite my former persistence in trying to know or understand others on their terms and in their world. For is not to truly love and know another to try and know and understand them also from *their* world and perspective? Love ought not to be out to change you according to the right of it’s own answers, but to meet you where you are. Why could I never find someone who wanted to try and understand me as I would have them? Particularly before I *finally* stopped caring so much, and after all the years search in vain hoping, it could seem as though the answers to this are easy to find- as they were likely staring you in the face from the very start- yet I somehow failed to identify the truth about relationships, assuming something so deeply disappointing surely couldn’t be the end of the matters characterizing the constant craving of being human.
Consequently, I’ve always wondered how important can anything be if nothing is significant enough to last, and no one is supposed to be needed or attached enough to be truly missed? I always needed something more- but aren’t we all seeking something that doesn’t exist? In some small silent way, still hoping? It used to seem to exist, but it could not last. As is to be human I surmise.

Reflecting back over the course of my ill-informed life- always waiting to find something that could never exist beyond our minds- it could be tempting to allow myself many selfish questions regarding my seemingly lonely plight or to explore the possibility that my solitude at times may have been subconsciously chosen or preferred over the relationships that almost always felt insufficient. Inadequate as if despite feeling you know what’s in the hearts of men, that deep down you’re still hoping, searching, or waiting for something that ended up never alighting- whether for reason that you’re the type for which love (as it truly is) could never ultimately feel compelling enough to override your ambitions or exorcise the torment from your heart, or that it’s simply not meant for some, or that the human spirit is simply insatiable in its desires; or all three.

Yet despite being absolutely convinced of this defect in our relationships at most times, I’d long consciously fought this seemingly unjust longing of never finding a partner or present companion on an identical wavelength or frequency of the spectrum- eventually assuring myself that it isn’t possible, in addition to the recurrent conclusion that no two individuals can truly understand one another nor feel another’s fear, joy, or heartache. The extent of our words are much transcended by these. This separation was never only merely in my mind, and I am now convinced it will never entirely disappear this side of eternity. Perhaps this resignation could explain my own ironically diminishing depth of enthusiasm in relationships, of sheer exhaustion and disillusionment with all that has been found in the world. I’ve lately been feeling like everything inside my heart has been rotting away partly from heartbreak and partly from sheer lack of any measure of challenge or stimulation over such an unsurpassedly long period of time that one could be concerned of going insane.

I wanted to chalk the many recurrently disappointing experiences in life up to simply not yet finding or creating whatever I was meant for in life, But I couldn’t have come to understand the why’s or devastating byproducts of all these feeling for many years to come: when my heart finally gave way to fractures numerous and complex enough that it likely could never truly look or feel the same way again; this when I finally learned to be able to leave as well, in ultimately having seemingly lost my own capacity to love others to the degree I once felt or believed that I could.
Furthermore, in most cases, few individuals (by the time of its peak relevance) still, or ever even possessed in the first place the capacity to truly see, know, and care for another as for themselves. Is this not the cause of our separation? For if one could truly feel the pain of human suffering in all its weight, one would go to most any extent within their reach to alleviate it. Is this not what Jesus purposed to do? So many people hear but do not listen to understand, or see but simply can’t understand. I would know because I used to be one of them. All the pain, trial, mistakes, and utter misery that culminated in a much deeper understanding of the weight of the world’s sorrow, have left me finally unable to put my heart- or anything back together again. It’s been lying on the floor in a million sparkling pieces for a year now, and I am lost at sea, with no way back to the peace of ignorance I believed with all of my being would somehow always be there to go back to inside.

To the occasional person of interest I once believed to be so seemingly destined to cross paths with at protracted intervals, my heart once possessed a genuine curiosity in desiring to know and discover the detailed idiosyncrasies, methods of thought, and story of these individuals: yet subjectively, to be rarely If ever reciprocated. I had characteristically always held on for far longer than I had usually ever been led to believe another cared for me in such ways, and letting go was typically more painful than they would ever know. But now it becomes more customary, as with every detachment the metaphorical glue works increasingly less. So I conclude, now that life has finally gotten to me too and I no longer seem to care so much as I ever so foolishly adhered to (akin to a switch suck in one position for decades suddenly flipping with no means of righting itself) It can often feel as if there’s no one left who cares that much anymore either- as in to the degree that I once did. Perhaps I may finally be becoming a sellout myself- an idiot who was looking for significance in a world full of simple equations, simple answers, simple people, and simple decay. Life was always simple, and given the tendency to unconsciously complicate it out of sheer boredom, perhaps I would have gotten farther in having become myopic and simple off the bat and taking my evidently colossal imagination and smashing it under the same rock the time invariably seems to use to crush our hearts and dreams as well. For what difference does it make at the end of the matter? Or the end of any matter at all? Everyone and everything has changed and it can at times appear that very few others seemed to be able to keep their hearts intact either. Perhaps I’m so terribly wrong- but I suppose the only distinction between us is how unsurpassedly devastated I still was watching it all slowly unfold. Maybe at that point I simply wasn’t desensitized or broken in quite enough yet for it all to not kill me inside. Every storyline seems hacked off, hope or wonder murdered by a perfectly explainable and inescapable reality, and every person I had looked up to is indeed also dead. Who do I ask for advice when I don’t know what to do when everyone seems as or more lost than I am?
What if there isn’t anyone I want to be like? Who will advise me if no one truly knows me or understands me? For heaven is silent and I have been perpetually wrought with confusion, fear, anger, and discord. I used to know what to tell me, but I can’t find that person either.

They say it’s a part of growing up, that in our lives we ourselves will become many different people- whether we desire to or not- and to love anyone for any considerable length of time is to attend a thousand proverbial funerals for the both of you. I wanted to think that they were wrong, that not everything must inevitably simplify and decay- yet so is the nature of the world, and I had always believed that I would be an exception to this seemingly unavoidable principal of universal thermodynamics. Yet here we are, and it can almost feel as if I don’t know what happened to us- knowing well enough by now that deep down we’re most all still a bunch of kids, only often now with our arms crossed and our backs turned to each other, typically in the case of something absurdly trivial or a misunderstanding- or we simply don’t care anymore. Oftentimes we can no longer discern through any present haze of unconsciously internalized pain (if we can still even be made aware of it) enough to see or meet another from the lens of *their* paradigm as opposed to the assumptions of our own.
Life turned out to be hard, incredibly hard. Breaking and bending us in ways that when we were younger we had no dire need to be equipped to deal with, so we still naturally held the energy and room to keep our hearts intact and in touch; it can now drift away either so gradually or so suddenly you may not even notice the increments until one day you’re a stranger to even yourself, feeling you’re looking in from the outside on a bad dream that you’ll surely wake up from, but never quite do. Thusly as the then culmination of this season of life has now irrevocably turned, juxtaposed to this necessary atrophic hardening of the heart, I have observed the alternative loss of that inner child. Friends, mentors, acquaintances, and every sort of companion I had kept any sort of company with- whether acquainted platonically or romantically loved, or covertly holding a place of fondness in my heart- seems to have largely turned into someone else, and those who I once looked up to are dead and I’m racing to stand in the place of those who were my “heroes”.
Many people have a reflexive tendency to file all change as being inevitable “growth”, but this is partly a defense in that de-evolution is (in my perspective) in no way synonymous with improvement or at all appropriate under the guise of supposed maturity. Much as I’ve gone to extensive lengths to try and remain undiluted by life, this list finally includes myself of late; nearly everything I’d felt so convinced or convicted of seems as far away as a different lifetime and most every feeling is now subtle enough that you have to concertedly look for it to remember how to even feel something.

So I’m out here, out of my mind and out of the cage but subjectively no less alone amidst the truth that we’re all alone together, and it will never be adequate to cure a feeling of an aloneness that cannot be sated by what is left.
Casual sex is of no satiety or anything more than effective means for hastening the confusion and degradation of every latent seed of potential or fulfillment left inside, and all the conversation in the world of all the most clearly evident truths rarely seems to bridge the space I’ve often long felt from most everyone in the world. Perhaps I am an asshole. Perhaps I had the world pegged when I was 13, but everyone told me to keep second guessing everything I observed until I was old enough to realize the best days were likely behind. Maybe I cared too much because the fire in me hadn’t been extinguished quite as early on in life as many who don’t even notice its passing in their souls until they realize they have nothing to say, no dreams or ambitions, and nothing to hope for but sleepy summer afternoons and grey hair. Perhaps I am autistic after all, though I’ve absolutely no difficulty reading expressions or subtle behavior. I know it very well, but of these recent many attempts, it has grown wearisome and futile to find (much less appeal to) a heart that speaks the same language as I used to until this day; it is often akin to as they say attempting to get blood from a turnip- only now you can’t even find any turnips and it’s dark, and additionally you’re now part of the problem too because you officially now have your own baggage. I could very well be the world’s worst hypocrite, but where is my match? Where is my adversary? And at what heavy cost was all this knowledge gained? Now most all things but a mother’s love has a weightier cost or compensation than before- and of diminishing meaning for its reward. Or perhaps it’s always been this way and I’m just now falling prey to beginning to become a worse person.
Was I wasting my time in fighting a ridiculous war and thinking I had anything to gain by even bothering to try and keep my heart, mind, and spirit from becoming a watered down, faded version of whatever circumstances made it? I guess so. Maybe everyone is dumb, and so am I. Though I’m sure in the world of each of our minds, most might reflect this sentiment. So I give up. I recant of the certitude that what I thought I was looking for exists in any real world.

In the least I may *finally* understand the why’s and the nature of the fractures and strings subtly pulling us apart inside and separating us just beneath the surface- instead of continuing to believe that there’s only something wrong with me. At least I can attempt to record one final account to possibly reflect back on in the future and be reminded that I used to actually believe in something in this massive universe, and had a heart so foolishly imaginative and restless of longing, creating, and venturing to seek out the unexplainable in the world or any bit of magic left in a blurring timeline called life. For at this point it too often feels like I’m merely breathing, feeling nothing and desiring nothing. If I could recall what it felt like to feel alive- as it really wasn’t so long ago, for feeling alive is not equivocal to mere happiness- but the full weight and spectrum of beautiful, tragic emotion. I rarely feel even this I took for granted anymore- or much anything of late- beside now vacillating between numbness and a now exploding rage and repressed animosity toward all the encumbering mediocrity that it is to be human. I had been so lifelong accustomed to feeling things so deeply and passionately, that it never once even crossed my mind to worry that I could become numb. I naively assumed I would always have feelings of inspiration to draw from while creating or deciding what to pursue in life.
Yet I guess even those days seem to be over now too.

It’s taken me this unbearably long to begin to grasp the dissolution of everything I’ve ever believed, and the reality that if by now I haven’t found anything comparable to the oases in the desert places of either burning fire or bitter cold (but no such soul-destroying inbetween as I now find) that I hoped existed as more than a fading mirage- I never will. If I haven’t found a fulfilling enough level of connection in relationships to motivate either person to stay by now, I never will. If with a better understanding, I still find society generally foolish and utterly predictable and unstimulating, this may likely never change. This world is simply too broken for any two wandering pieces to fit together or find peace in an ecosystem of perpetual entropy that will not be reconciled on this mortal side of eternity. Thusly in light of the depths ventured, sacrificed, lost, and learned: I have decided to go my own way of solitude again. This is a perfectly acceptable conclusion in light of past decisions that must be made at the crossroads of either selling every passionate bone down the river in exchange for settling down and simply weathering old with a family, or continuing to pursue life as it still is to me deep down on any now rare day of feeling or honesty. That is- an excruciating testing of the authenticity of man’s resolve and the purity of his heart when life and time stand to potentially take everything from you, for few will fight a war with slim chance of success, but only a human can justify fighting a war that is a guaranteed loss.
Now by all observation, not all wounds heal, but some stay open, just tormentedly challenging you:
“What are you going to do?”
“Who are you going to be able to hold onto being when there’s no real incentive to work so hard anymore?”
How long can you keep two middle fingers raised to everything thats fighting to take everything from you before you are unavoidable crushed by the same milling stone that broke the wings and spirit of the native butterfly?
How can you keep a fire alive with nothing left to burn…?

***

The End of the Matter Pt.1

God,

Amidst the multitude of growing troubles that have arisen as the waters over my head: progressively weighing on my mind, vexing my soul, and perpetually pressing in like shards of accumulating glass in my once child-like soul, I feel compelled as a final resort to attempt to write down some of the current results of these matters to try and respectfully talk with You in a way I feel most ineffaceably heard. I intend to shoot from the hip, as to say most of what I feel led to, and so apologize in advance for any redundancy; yet by these means I might have the confidence that they were said in a manner more tangible than simply continuing to circle in my head as the ravenous vultures they are- as though these consuming fears, worries, regrets, and disappointments are not just as obvious to You as the literal condors overhead, eagerly awaiting my demise. Yet I know as it often does, that the day will come that there are so many ineffably hardest learned lessons and concepts trapped within my succumbing spirit that I’ll wish I had found a more concrete way of communicating them than wishfully continuing to hope that You perceive my every faded inward thought, feeling, and inclination. I truly fear That I’ve been fighting in vain the point at which I will sink into silence; that all the passions that once enlivened my mortal body, spirit, and soul will become obsolete. So I wanted to write as much as I could formulate together, now. For it seems there is no better time that will feel the right time- fragmented as it may be in light of my continually insatiable desire to feel known, understood, touched, or felt; yet I know no matter how much I say it will likely never feel to do justice to the knowledge of a no longer merely proverbial weight of this world.

I have found myself finally having been pushed over the cliff’s edge I’ve been precariously skirting for years, yet continually spared from by Your good graces. I am struggling to overcome the perpetual feeling of being trapped in the midst of days that feel like a nightmare I keep hoping I’ll simply wake from, and in never doing so conclude that there will be no mortal return from this harrowing precipice of both unbecoming and becoming so many things I swore I would never lose, nor become. You might be able to appropriately deem me much like the character of “Most Afraid”, of Hinds Feet On High Placed, for I have since been filled with a strange type of disinhibited courage ever fraught with a profoundly deep and conflicting fear, and I am indeed afraid of all the ways the last years’ events and it’s ensuing silence have unavoidably been changing me. Admittedly and violently, tooth and nail I fought these changes until the simultaneous cataclysm of ensuing events became so devastatingly overwhelming that to stand was to break my bones. And I did. Like the strong and stubborn, often incorrigibly wild spirit You partly crafted me of, or a horse that would run itself to death if it were to believe it could somehow escape gravity or the grave. My spirit has finally been irremediably broken, as I have been warring this for years, and finally seemingly been defeated in silence. I find it is in this silence that some of the most catastrophic wars against spirit and morale are eternally fought or lost in endless succession- and yet there is no wholeness of peace in the stillness of surrender, and no peace without losing a war. In fact, from my current vantage, there is no peace at all in this life; for I was surely born to either fight all the way or be defeated on terms of which I’m not decided whose yet it will be.

At the seeming end of all these matters,
I partly wish now only to erase it all- to take the now supposed answers and absolutely discard most of them in order to unknow and return to being the person I was before circumstances caused me to lose my grip on what I had believed was the life I was working to make and the person I desired to be: a refined redemption of all that was grown and painfully crafted in the wandering of the desert places of my bitterest mistakes so far from any promised land. Yet I have fallen and been dashed to pieces upon the rocks of the testing of the faithless at Kadesh Barnea, and the weight of my shame at failing You once more can no longer be ever relieved by assurance of any remaining sands in an immovable hourglass. The punishment I’d wager for my ignorant disbelief was to wander for many years alone in a land of seemingly no other souls, but Your presence often so tangibly with me, has felt more real than any other person in my life for most of it’s duration. In not understanding, I certainly have wondered and been afraid for most of this way- despite Your faithful leading- but I have never felt half as anxious and confused as I now find myself in understanding. Previous to this turn of events, I have run with either an unabating endurance or foolish denial- yet of which, I’m not certain I want to know. Perhaps deep down I have hoped for a kind of hope that simply doesn’t exist, and hope does not feel as hopeful as I had always thought, nor peace any longer as peaceful. For at the end of this decade- plus length journey, all my searching begs that it may be more beneficial to the mind of disquietude to suffer the perpetual uneasiness of not knowing, rather than to seek the answers to the ubiquitous questions of existence, free will, and Your dealings with us. I have felt deeply compelled to extensively ponder and seek these things, and presently arrive at a most lowly landing place of trepidation and confusion between accepting the fate of the answers I currently consider at the end of all my failings, or to continue to seek and search in possibly foolish optimism that my breakthrough is just around the corner. Which is what I had always told myself in my tireless persistence in all things.

Some often so discourteously recite that the subjectively relevant end of your life is usually the metaphorical beginning, but I had armed myself for war during the years of desert wandering and tried to hold faith that I had managed to solidify a steely enough fortitude in my projected plans for the future. However, In this recent most unexpected season it seems from my current perspective and experience that all of this has tragically come crashing down in a most unexpected way of the illest timing imaginable, and of a nature seemingly so precise and extensive that it becomes increasingly impossible to attribute to mere coincidence- as opposed to a purposefully orchestrated conspiring of either divine or demonic affliction, or I am the world’s biggest fool. But there are simply too many moving pieces that have all come together in such a way as to produce a massive change in all my beliefs, psyche, personality, and conviction of who I am at my core. Twenty- nine years of such certitude seem to have all somehow been shaken and Transmuted, such that on the dawn of 30, I don’t know what I believe anymore. It has all seemed as though no amount of willpower could have resisted or turned back the absolute devastation that swept through so suddenly and unexpectedly, like a hurricane leaving nothing but shambles of what was in its unforgiving wake.

In my mind, heart, and soul this war has been waging as though a type of proverbial final battle, back and forth for many months in resisting it’s pull, until as if almost overnight: everything in my world changed.
It seems not a single hair on my head nor part of my life or self have gone undamaged or unchanged in the period of this last season. Many of these changes have left me devastated: at the deepest heart of who I have always been, decided to be, and labored for countless years in order to maintain any place of peace and faith inside. I have held on and fought the rising tides with more than I had to give, and in the midst of seemingly insurmountable anxieties, find I am finally unable to live or conduct myself in such a way consistent with the maintenance of a heart that in foolish granted, I had always thought impossible to irreparably destroy it’s tenacious spirit within me. This is unfortunately the case at this present time, and amidst the unfamiliarity and painful strangeness now of every part of life, it’s difficult not to think this to be the same inevitable end of any passionate pursuit under the same tiring sun. Yet I have to confess that at the end of this Journey, this too finds me
surprisingly, profoundly disappointed.

While I am well aware that plans rarely go as we would most ideally have them, and life will never be perfect nor easy, I can’t help but be tempted to question You and most everything I have so unwaveringly believed about Your workings and relationships toward us. I am doubting in things I have so firmly maintained since I was too young to even recognize the concept of conscious belief or identify the timeframe of its forming within me. The one thing I always knew since there was any knowledge to be had, was that You were with me. Though our human memories are spotty and tend to be rewritten with time, from my present point in time it could feel as though my awareness of Your omnipresence was either instilled from birth or simply there from the onset of self- awareness’ age of development.
Furthermore, I must have trusted You so much more deeply than I could have yet realized- for I knew nothing else- until it was shattered in the breaking light of reality and a level of sadness and devastation I never could have believed one could feel and still breathe; I never thought you could lose your heart and have it still beat or believed that I could ever truly die long before my body was put in the ground.

Perhaps I give myself too much credit, but maybe my innate belief that You were always with me Is contributory as to why I typically had a formerly great confidence about me, and rarely remember feeling marked loneliness throughout life- or at least not the type of loneliness that I believed could be filled by any person. I felt so sure that You have been there for every moment of my life: every breath, every whispered doubting word inside, The countless moments no one will ever see, and every exultation of hope or imagination fulfilled to affirm Your guiding hand in my life or word in my ear. Even in a great number of the trivial details of life, there are many things that I might be too hesitant to share with people who could so easily believe me to be delusional, or water the seeds of doubt formerly hidden to my eyes, that shamefully nonetheless have sprung up and now are dominating the garden of my desecrated heart. My doubts have birthed from fear: the fear that I imagined it all and there is no making sense or redeeming the end of my strength, fear that I have always been alone, fear that I now walk until the end without any of the sustaining hopes of Kadesh in my heart; Fear that the comforting words and continual guidance with the tender understanding of my mortal fears and haunts, was an exhaustively complex grand fabrication of my imagination and God could never humor me so personally, as I am one grain of sand on the shore of over 100 billion faces having passed through this same broken world, of which I feel more a likeness to with every passing day.

I have been unable to eradicate the roots of doubt taking hold, of potentially how overwrought and grandiose these detailed observations presently feel to be. Here in my present state, with seemingly nearly all of the pieces of my life, peace, hopes or dreams lying again shattered on the ground and my fists bloodied in anger, my pride and dignity have been brought low by a force I can neither explain nor identify, but could not seem to effectively resist- though I tried with all I had left. I have to confess that in light of everything I have believed since I was a child, and with everything I’ve seen, that it has become nearly impossible not to be tempted to turn in question or blame. I know I have blamed you, and I have blamed myself. I have been full of rage and anger at myself, too scared until now to admit that my anger is at both of us. I have tasted and seen, being well aware that we live in a fallen world. But Your sovereignty and control in the minutiae of the universe, in light of Your simultaneous presence on both sides, is not a mutually exclusive statement with living in a fallen world. I had always believed Your ability to work in spite of and within these fractures exemplified your infinite understanding of every detail of every situation as well as it’s complex interconnections with the overlapping webs of other’s seemingly unrelated situations and how they will respond. I now question this. I am doubting that You fully understand the degree of reactivity in my heart, spirit, and soul in angst and ceaseless conflict. I question the complex theories I had formed from taking meticulous note in my heart of Your orchestration in the past and it’s fruits into the present. Did I overthink or over- imagine the ways of a God who said He could do more than we ask or imagine? Do You not perceive or incline the hearts of some men to flow as a river in the way that they should go? Did I not pray these very words? Did I so utterly fail You that Your will could be usurped by a left turn as opposed to a right? Did I miss the final sign? Am I simply too ill- minded and stubborn to accept a fate so grim as to be hinging upon merely my own diminishing strength? Have You been my help, shelter, and strength all these years or was I simply still young enough to get away relatively unscathed of my own small might?

These cumulatively compiled yet unwritten treatises kept in my soul regarding how I have always experienced You, have long been all I have held onto inside- amidst the unseen highest highs and these unforeseeable darkest times. These now lie as myths potentially shattered and possibly irreparably singed in my mind, now with consequently little to hope for in this life But the same to be as has always been before- for there is indeed nothing new under the Sun, much as I may have tirelessly searched for it.
Now caught in the midst of the most unsettling season of life, I find my heart sorrowfully caught between the teeth of a world that seems to only be revealing itself as even worse than I had speculated, And I’m trying to make sense of such commonplace devastations in light of my formerly naive candor.
Most religious or spiritual advice offers simply one or the other: the viewpoint that things do not work out or bad things happen because we live in a fallen world and You will sometimes work to the endpoint of a simple exercise or lesson, *or* You are so much more intimately acquainted with the labyrinthine reactions and repercussions prior to and following the bad things that You choose not to intercept (or You allow) And this understanding would be to a degree so high above our human asking or imagination, that I would need not doubt its redeeming qualities. The first theory on using it as the means by which a life can utterly fail or be cut off premature despite all best efforts, could imply that there are things in the universe outside not only Your control, but also the control of the human afflicted by whatever circumstance. Is there anything beyond Your control? Which would mean You were not all powerful within the bounds You have set to limit Yourself from intervening with human free will or nature ticking as the clock.
I guess in some unadvertised way deep in the recesses of my heart I still hoped that by some miracle of Yours, I would figure things out and end up okay, or that somehow my turnaround just hadn’t come yet. I thought You were that big.
I fought all this way- through thousands and thousands of bad days- and I believed You would have done something miraculous in my life by now, to show that You are a brilliant story writer and not just trying to put bandaids on hopeless situations.
Yet If you can do more than we ask or imagine, then why should any yet-uninhibited imagination be of any challenge to the true nature of Your workings? Is anything too hard for You?
Is any imagination too lofty for You?
Are you ever caught off guard or surprised? I guess I actually am.
Ultimately, I wonder If Your will can be usurped by human frailty, decision, or miscalculation (because of free will in a broken world) , this gives me very little to have any of my former hope or peace in this life on the basis of. I wish You had given me a bit less free will. I prayed You would incline the direction of my heart like You carve the rivers paths into the Earth’s face or the tributaries that ever flow back to the ocean. Since I was old enough to speak I ran to You, and I have always run back to You.
To where else will I now go?

I have seen Your hand ever present and involved in nearly every iota of this world and I had speculated even the universe- save for that I have never been there. In my mind there has always been nothing You couldn’t do: no soul being too far gone or singular perspective beyond Your comprehension in a way that implies personal investment and a degree of excruciating symbiosis in the endless alleviation of human suffering.
I have been tempted enough to have thought throughout my life that despite my insatiably restless spirit and continual straying, that Your spirit in me at times could seem almost one and the same,
but then remember the nature of my sin and self- seeking ways. Regularly thoughout my many tumultuous years I have been gifted with Your gentle presence and an ever present longstanding dialogue inside of which my simply contrived thoughts and the strategic language in which You presented Your words was in such a manner that they could sometimes be difficult to tell apart.
I had always believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that the fire deep within me that always guided and strengthened me- growing and diminishing but never entirely extinguishing- that it was You by my side, feeling what I felt, and guiding me back to a place where I felt safe. I never thought that fire could die. I never could have believed a day would come I could not hear You.

Yet I am beyond petrified to witness what I thought would cease as only cracks in my faith and beliefs, rapidly erupt into a full- blown fracture and falling away from You and everything I’ve known and been shaped into. I’m terrified to be witness to feeling separated from You for the first time, as though deep in my soul I am desperately clawing through the dirt to try and reach the places I used to feel Your presence in a way that felt clean and uninhibited, but now countless hands keep pulling me further down under the mud; for these days I always feel I am a terrible type of tainted and unclean that never washes off.
I believed that if I tried my best and did what I thought was the next right step in my life with the strength that I had, while continually praying for your guidance, that I would get where I was ultimately meant to be. I did not necessarily believe in fate or destiny apart from Your mysterious hands leading, guiding, strengthening and protecting those whom You called Your own. I can recall a passage of Psalm 139 stating:

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
In Your book we’re written, every one of them,
The days that we’re formed for me,
When as yet there were none of them.”

I guess I messed it all up.

I wish so desperately I could say that today I still so firmly believed in this interpretation, or that I no longer feel devastated by terror clouding my ability to see a worthy plot in life or a redemption that eradicates the multiplying torments gnawing inside and growing measures of disappointment. I could ask You if you had truly planned my life, and if it were so, perhaps I could feel some peace again. But if I ruined everything and missed Your plan for my life, I could never forgive myself, so I’m too terrified to ask You that question. Couldn’t You see my mistakes coming before I was ever ever even a concept in my mother’s heart? Seven years ago I could never have begun to grasp the magnitude of the weight of the world I feel today in relation to a lifetime of seemingly waiting for redemption or for something to make sense or feel clear to me amidst the chaotic, confusing, heart- wrenching mess of being another broken human being of finite strength. And I am devastated. And I know I’m not the only one. I have never felt nearly so utterly weak and distressed in all my days upon this earth or so frightfully disoriented and tossed about on the tumultuous seas of a new kind of confusion, of which must be only compounded by the relentlessly opportunistic oppression of demons that seem to never cease returning whenever I have been at my most weary. Frightening enough as it is that they have nearly won this time, but what scares me most is this cavernous hole I’ve still managed to sense expanding amidst the numbness within until it has finally fractured the junctions That have all my life held me together as surety of who You are, or who I was created to be; it’s been dividing my mind, spirit, body, and soul to be at continual conflict and war with one another and sometimes it can feel, with You. Desperately, I come to You in pieces, for the first time terrified You won’t be able to put me back together. When my prayers in the day grew weary, I began calling out for You in my sleep, in which I have been experiencing recurring nightmares of worsening intensity. In such dream I have fallen some place deep within the earth and no one can hear me, or even knows I’m there. My body is dangling over a bottomless cavernous pit and my hand is slipping from the only small handhold left to grab in this claustrophobic chasm of which the walls on each side and above are slick with the sickening muck of a sewer cellar, and closing in as I’m screaming Your name until I wake myself up from yelling myself hoarse and death-gripping the headboard. I have never before doubted my faith in You who had ever been my help and comfort. Yet here I am, feeling so terrifyingly far away from You and everything I’ve ever Known that always seemed so sure, far past a shadow of a doubt and unable to save myself from these darker shadows that seem to have come back again in this season.

What seems a journey I have long been on in search of answers I thought I desired, I now wish I could erase recollection of in return for the measure of peace I wasn’t even aware I had previously until these present days befell that it wasn’t there in the same degree. I wish so desperately I could erase the entire last year from my mind and efface it’s marks in my soul. I want so desperately to feel that same familiar relief deep inside, To be able to come to you and leave feeling renewed, strengthened, or filled with a familiar fire; for a while now no such comfort or rest do I find. You’ve always been the shelter that I’ve run to in the hard times and the better times too, and I find myself confused and distant because, quite plainly, You’ve never not rescued me. You’ve never not met me. I have waited, prayed, and persisted in doing all of the things I don’t want to do, long left my comfort zone, sought more help, and took more advice than ever in my life, only to end up so much worse than ever before. And some of these people want to act like they understand me, my life, or what’s been going on better than I do. In all this humiliating help-seeking I hoped that my fire, resolve, or direction would be somehow inevitably renewed as it always was previously.
But for what seems the absolute first time, this has not happened.
The fire has gone out for the very first time.
And it hasn’t come back.

I have blamed myself for every possible wrong turn and step I can even think of, I have changed myself according to what I was told I should be until I don’t even like me anymore, and I have examined myself solely and mercilessly to find the fault for which I failed. And I am so very sorrowful for my failures, despite all that I had to learn the hard way. I don’t know what I missed in having been taken by waves beyond my capacity to cope.
I have been tossed about in every direction, as though every way in which I am pointed that would seem to be of Your guiding, turns out to be another dead end. I’ve never experienced not having any inner compass before, or such silently excruciating and sorrowful depths of apathy. I’ve never felt so alone and I never could have fathomed I could ever become become capable of numbing myself in all the ways I now seem to be achieving in exchange for parts of myself, and barring myself from everything that once seemed worth keeping.

Yet it is unfortunately often discovered that with the progression of time this very specific temporary state of the transcendent joy of being unencumbered in Your presence is hampered by the burdens and heart breaking disappointments of life; call it the seeds sewn among thorns or cast by the wayside, but I am ashamed to say that this has finally become the case of where I find myself. I guess I simply lasted longer in my blinded faith than most. The heart that I used to so eagerly bring to You to sit in Your presence and have my cares lifted, passions illuminated, and strength of conviction renewed, for the first time in my existence on this earth has begun to feel the unsettling beginnings of callousness. These changes I’ve noticed possess the tendency to be so insidiously subtle yet progressive that I can see how some might not even notice it’s workings within, until the time comes too little And late to fully reclaim the innocence and idealistic enthusiasm that most people inevitably And progressively compromise along the way; for I find oftentimes even if it can be relived or imitated in a moment, it is mostly through the bias of a memory that tends to change over time as well.
Periodically, sudden and unexpected revelations of the past evoke a renewed awareness of these cumulative changes within myself, and I wonder when did existing stop being enough incentive to keep those feelings?
I long assumed that most other people in the world saw or felt similarly as I, or that their hearts were the same and felt things as deeply as mine always had, until lately. It was only In speaking to a greater number and spending more time with people than ever previously in my life, that I more firmly conjecture that most of us reach a nearly definitive point in life at which we consciously or unconsciously begin to to numb the painful feelings of the things we can’t control, at the partial expense of dulling and chipping away at the highs. Even being fully cognizant of this: Now, when I’m not breaking things or fucking up life evidently by trying too hard, I’m numbing myself for the first time too. In fact, it scares the life out of me that “I’ve become numb to everyone and everything and I’ve finally given up in life for the very first time”, and that was part of the clearest things You’ve ever said to me in my life. it’s been destroying and dismantling everything I am, and despite recognizing that, I swear I never could have seen these days coming, and have yet to be able to turn it around this time as every tool and weapon in my arsenal have failed me. As much as I’ve continued to pray and tried to reach You the way I always did in the past, my prayers have grown weary, as has my faith and I, beneath the crushing weight of all these mysterious ill- events and changes I cannot account for.

And even *if* I have only myself to blame, after having experienced those many moments of being on high places alone with You, I have been cut down and descended to abysmal lows I could never have foreseen to immediately ensue those fleeting but promising, dreaming days. In fact, I could never have believed that I would ever find myself in such a humiliating and humbling low, of which redemption seems suddenly an underwhelming word in light of all that has transpired within, been learned, and rendered a deeply indelible and scarred groove in my mind and spirit. I have now seen where the roots of bitterness and anger grow and have resided in the hearts of man, and ultimately also ended up residing in mine; for it was beneath the soil, yet to spring forth from the tumultuous rains of the changing seasons to come. For I feel my heart has consequently finally grown colder than I ever would have believed it could be. And though I tried as hard as I could, I am so bitterly sorry that a thousand sorry’s could never say enough. For I believed the sky would fall before I could ever lose my faith in You.

***

March 3rd 2020

So afraid, just a half step away from being lost in this eternity

I try to look away, but what’s done can never be unseen

As we fight this rising tide trying just to buy more time, But the reasons have fallen through

Is there nothing left here to do

For all the places our souls have been, with no language known to let someone in

All the traces remain ever embedded in our skin

A constant reminder with no way to heal or craft redemption for our sins

I would give anything to feel one thing as real as all the pain left inside we simply learn to conceal

Do I have what it takes to push through to my fate, when I never realized until today I’ve lived my whole life inside imagination

Now it’s time to bridge the distance that’s kept me in between

Though it’s never felt so different as when hope finally grew it’s wings

And flew before me in the time

Now anger fills the colors of every part that we have lost, and we throw the ending away when the start we have forgotten

They say when you stop caring that you’ll finally be free, but now that we are there, I vehemently disagree

Years flash by in a moment and it’s never slowing down, so take a breath and exhale slow, because it’s all we’re getting now

Because of all the places our souls have been, with no language known to let them in, all the traces remain in our skin, with no one to heal and make us feel forgiven for our sins

And there are still so many things that are ever calling out, a still smallest whisper that never makes a sound

And I found myself in a darkness of a more crushing regret than words can say

And the answers I found were far more than I could take

Wondering do we all have to go insane to find our way

Can I ever forget what’s been cut from my flesh

As I’ve tasted heaven and been marred by hell too

But all I ever can think to say to You

Is hold on to her until I get back

Until I can carve a way back through the scar tissue and hard facts

Of all the lessons I’d die to efface from my skin

And God I hope I have the strength to do this

For all the places our souls have been.

8.18

Wish that I didn’t always feel so conflicted within
A battlefield I fear that there is no win
And the present situation seems to be getting more dim
Despite punching out the windows
just trying to let some light in
Think I’ve got my mind made up, that I finally see a ray of sun
Resolve for a minute, Next day my conviction’s gone
I’ve been passively living in a perpetual division
Is there actually no real correct decision
Or if there is, would I really even care to be informed
Searching for sign of a hope I’m scared doesn’t exist anymore
As I’m holding my breath, questioning every step
Second guessing my path
Do I go right or stay left
The evident truth and I locked in a match
As Im wrestling to the death
Trying to battle my way back again
Voices multiplying filling up my head
With loaded suggestions
It shows I’ve been regressing
As if I don’t Know it
That I can’t locate my Focus
Will the world out there ever stop pressing in on me
Infecting with heavy care of the same precedented disease
Or will I be scared and restless as this for the rest of eternity
Reconsidering all I’ve believed on continual repeat
Will I create a means to make peace if it turns out to be
My purpose remains still so uncertain to me
Are my efforts concerted enough to bring the turn that I need
Will giving my best ever measure up
Am I being tested or did I mess my life up
I just want myself back and a world that I recognize
the person I had and been for all my life
Not just what they taught to me
God on high there’s got to be
something
How can the right thing feel so wrong
And I can’t take a deep breath
how can the straight path leave me feeling so off and empty in my chest
What is it that has to be done, to feel like me again
to get rid of the numb, don’t know where the hell I’ve been
Passion gone missing in an apathetic prison
I’ve too long been stranded and just running with the crowd
I can’t fucking stand it I just want to get out
Find a high place to run at my own pace rediscover my faith
In some place other than the black abyss
Never hated it more down here in the darkness
I just swallow the fear and suppress all my emotions
praying for something to be clear amidst a mess of endless motions
God I’ve gotta break through
But I don’t know what else to do
At the end of my rope while watching everything around
seems like I’m always alone when the terror surrounds and then comes crashing down
On me
remind me that my heart still beats
before it kills me
But everything real feels
the next agonizing pill
Is every necessary attenuation
Only the very next change To try not to hate
And Realization
that’ll keep me up at night in new ways
haven’t gotten much shut eye in a few days
Which dragged on into weeks and then months
Why Is it sadness and peace seem synonymous
Will I have to give up and quit
Simply stop with being honest
Will I be choked out and sickened by
this Silence of pretense
I’d rather hold my ground and go down swinging and screaming
This won’t be my end
Maybe I’ll never really get rid of this anxious feeling in my gut and chest again
Maybe life was always only found in death
And There’s Such a big part of me that’s already dead
Maybe we’re never really ready
so tell me God
Where are we going next?

8.1 free write

Been trapped living on the edge of a knife, Seems that the only decision is a kind of death or Die
When it feels like there will be no getting out Alive
Not the same person that I was before, Afraid I’ve become a monster of some form
don’t know what to do but to say Your name out loud
If There ever was a day I’ve needed You
Jesus it’s now
As my universe feels like it’s crumbling all around
You say it’ll be OK but why does it get harder to believe every passing day
Have I lost my faith
Even the hope for a love that could mean something to me
seems so far away it’s barely even a memory
I don’t know what I want, don’t know where I belong I would ask where exactly did I go wrong but would I really want to know
We always keep moving forward because we don’t really have a choice
Fight not to be bitter for it but seems every turn of the story merely disappoints
I feel like everything I’ve tried so hard to protect has been torn right out of my chest and replaced with this awful empty bitterness
Jesus please hold on to me, to the spirit that I’ve misplaced
In a world I can’t escape I keep on burying away
the heart I need to be me but can never keep safe
So hold onto me and don’t let me go when I can feel myself slipping away
honestly it’s getting harder to see where this is all going
All my life they’ve told me You’re always on my side, but I feel if you knew my secret battles You might change Your mind
Most days it’s felt like you’re all I’ve ever had, because I know people just don’t understand
kind of hard to see eye to eye when we all have our own lives inside our minds
Why is it when I try to find the words to say I just sit there in silence as if I can’t explain
All these problems I can’t fix but can’t efface or leave behind
It’s all so fucked up and I can’t erase these lines
But if i try to talk about it a panic riots inside
How can 1000 thoughts and feelings scream so loud
but when it come to revealing, words just don’t come out
Sentences always seemed so weak and in vain
but they’re all that we’ve got
While waiting here in between
The life we used to have, who we used to be, and the reality now
we can’t escape, it comes crashing down everyday
Words just barely scratch the surface and right now aloud they sound so worthless
When I know this, I’ve rehearsed it, all the verses heard in churches
Seems like nothing is working and the one thing for certain is everything hurting and my heart’s grown too heavily laden with burden
Because scholarly comprehension is no comfort or friend
wish I could reverse nearly all the knowledge I’ve procured upon the earth
Unlearn and somehow return
Erase my memory so I could maintain the belief there’s a life I could work to create
where not everything has to hurt, not everything is made to break
But I can’t find a truth these days that doesn’t immerse my soul in a new kind of pain
A stone dry desert rarely renewed by soothing rain
Because something in me died that day
A part of me died that night
The moment a thousand shards of truth shattered everything I’ve held onto in life
And I hate how people talk like that’s a great thing
to be devastated by such a painful sting
So most of the time lately I can’t feel anything
but this fear that’s always talking in my ear And I’m trying to stop listening
But it’s mostly all that I can hear
Now whenever I have an emotion, I just push it back down
pretend not to notice the colors fading into the background
negative emotions I ignore and repress
Tell myself my feelings don’t matter
until I have another breakdown and put my fists through the mirror as it shatters
Just throw my feelings in the trash bin then wonder why my mind is such a fucking mess
continue to speculate as to why I have no peace inside
Afraid that the only time I feel better is when I’m believing a lie
And In the fleeting moments of clarity between trying to keep my head above the waves of chaos and despair I see
it’s so scary to me to see the severity of just how far away I’ve drifted from the world I need
And the disparity between who I am now and who I used to be
and how numb I’ve become to everyone
And everything that once mattered to me
It’s so funny I bet everyone thinks I’m doing fine, but truth be told I’ve never felt so close to suicide
Seems like everything I do or try
just falls through and breaks
then merely for ironies sake rises back from the dead just to blow up in my face
So It’s no big secret I don’t really know how to appeal or relate
to the world outside
when I feel like I never really had a normal life
What it’s been like would be kind of difficult to explain
to anybody who even cared to listen a little bit
because no one was there For most of it
I’m really starting to reflect back at my past and wonder what I could’ve done different
But I guess it’s pointless to ask
When it probably wouldn’t make a difference
So I’m sorry that I let You down
I let me down too
I keep searching for the details to try and talk all of this out but they just get lost in the screaming static of the background
And I don’t really want to let go this time because I’m tired of changing.

3.5

Here I am still with you after it all, where we should say what we ought to and let the tears fall, so long and so far I ran from the path before me, sought to close up my heart just to stop from bleeding

In this cruel place where love is forsaken, with few to no answers when left in its wake, they say when one road ends another one begins, but didn’t know back then that nobody wins

I try to cover up my face when I can’t face the truth today, we came all this way just to lose everything, now it’s too late for regrets, we can’t go back when the past is dead, can’t barter our way out, in over our heads

Feels like I’ve been waiting my entire life for this time, now I cant close my eyes, will it ever be alright again, and I know you can feel it too my friend, now let our destinies lead us on to the end

Strength hastened to that day, I know we can’t go back, but I’m sorry I’m afraid.

2.26 free write

You’re paging through every song that you know, thousands of bittersweet memories, but not a single one to say what you’re facing today though, the stranger in the mirror and you never stop wondering just when did I get here

How’s it all happen quite so fast, one minute dreaming up your life and the next you watch it pass, these dreams so frail just slip right through our hands

And you remember everything, as all that’s left of you can only say

When did we get so far away, how did the best part of my heart break, and I know that we’ve only just begun but can’t you tell me when this is done, and everyone keeps talking about redemption, but all I want is to find an exit

Feels like there’s a certain point that we never can come back from, each day we’re moving forward ever searching just to find some hope that can feel right, for once

I don’t know how it all happened quite so fast, one day you have it all and then you breathe and it’s all passed, these hopes so fragile just fall right with the sands

And you still feel everything and all that’s left of you can only cry

When did we get so far away, how did the best part of my heart break, and I know that we’ve only just begun but can’t you tell me when this is all done, and everyone keeps talking about redemption, but all I want is to find an exit

No I don’t know what to say, I know we’re not the same, so I disappear and pray that we can fly away.

2.21 free write

Here I am on my own, though I know I’m not the only one who feels so alone, with all of these questions eating at my mind, like why am I still alive when I tried so hard to die

And the silence it screams nothing right back at me

Don’t know where to go from here, all I can see, hear, or feel is fear, seems I’ve already gone and died, only my body’s been left behind, find the strength any way it takes, but I’ve lost my faith in better days

Throwing down any pills it takes, don’t care if it kills me today, I can’t justify any more all of this misery and pain, I’ve got to take my place and make a name to burn out to my end

Was my destiny sealed when I couldn’t find a way to sufficiently heal, and all of these answers scream back at me in the silence whom I know

Don’t know where to go from here, all I can see, hear, or feel is fear, seems I’ve already gone and died, only my body’s been left behind, find the strength any way it takes, but I’ve lost my faith in better days

Everyday I wonder when I became the stranger standing in place of my reflection, but a changed mind cannot be unbent, and never going back is the hardest lesson

I died when I opened my eyes, terrified that we’ll never be okay again, even though I know that’s life, and now I’m too angry to find the words to say to the only one left in the silence.

2.13

You show me all these pictures, like the old photographs, of what is to come and what’s already past, everything and everyone in stills, their lovers, their children, and the birds that would alight upon my window sill, but no match was found suitable you see, with no one to blame but me

I have been and become of a great many things, but all when I look on that I can see is that everything is changing, I can’t lie that I’m not afraid, I broke it all down and now we’re building a new face, will I ever again recognize this place

Take me to the heights, let me never come down, where the colors are so bright and I can make my own way now, let me run with the eagles, though my wings be caught as the crow, may I bring about these impossible things that nobody else may know

As though we have already graced upon tomorrow, let that time be enough to pay all my sorrow, that I would be weaved to where You already are, my steps be pre- conceived by the hand of an orchestral heart, let my mistakes pave the way for the person torn apart

Why do I go, why do I stay, everyone wants to know if I choose a certain way, every hour forward it hurts to let go, and I cannot ignore how the time it flies so, but in the end I suppose most everyone ends up alone

Your lovers they will come and they will go, according to what serves them upon a wind easily blown to and fro, and though you be not alone for today or tomorrow, eventually you’ll know- if you can’t love a soul, you cannot love at all

I just want to feel the sun shine upon my skin again.

2.7 free write

I’m keeping back the words because I’m afraid of getting hurt, when perhaps I should’ve said fuck you from the very first accuser, who’s reading this anyhow, we’ve all grown up and point our fingers now

I won’t be cut back down like I’m fourteen years old again, I dug my way up out and don’t have to keep up with pretense, don’t make this a numbers game, been there done that, a formula built to fail, why should I be so motivated to change if the the other side tastes as ill

I’m trying to get my eyes off the endless fear and compromise, there is no striking balance, I’m here and not afraid to die, I don’t need any more correction, my conscience won’t let me sleep and it’s enough to garner direction

I just needed someone to sit down and talk to me, look me in the eye like a human being, without salting the wounds, because you don’t need to as I already do it, if you think I don’t have enough guilt to push me through- I put it on myself, even knowing it’s a tool that only freezes you

Useless to anyone else when ensuing shame tempts me to hide myself, but I take the responsibility and can’t be deluded from its futility, and you know what the scariest part of being honest about it is, I’m no longer sure I even really want to change this

Not when something inside reaches out to cripple before I even try, just fighting myself every step from the sidelines, continually challenging everything I am to get to a place I don’t even want to be, no more excuses no more wasting time or being afraid of honesty

But it would be better to just keep my mouth shut, when nothing worth saving comes out of the truth that I hole up, too bad no one knows the truth because no one ever got that close to me, feels like going fucking insane and on the verge of apostasy

Don’t know if it’s true that we are our own saviors, I’m sure not standing around waiting for any takers, there’s nothing they haven’t said before, and on the cliches- still got plenty more

But here I am again, ready to pull out my skeletons and confess to who I am, talk about love and talk about peace, but I won’t understand until I can see, I didn’t mean to throw it all away, and now the person in the mirror has become a stranger

Another shifting face that I can’t recognize, is it too late to turn around my demise, look what I’ve done, what I ran for a year to try to get away from

Show me if there’s anything left, moving on to the next life or moving on to death, slipped up and fell back, I want to give up every time I relapse

I’m on a path and headed for destruction, the worst part’s that I don’t know I give a fuck about it, and I know that I’m wrong, but don’t know where this is coming from, maybe it should be easier to trust someone but I only seem to end up feeling like the villain, and then frustration’s the only language these days I know how to speak with this tongue.

1.20 free write

All I want is for this to stop, to just get off of this rollercoaster that I call a life, the screaming is so real and hearing everything else too, I can’t shut it out, but I shut everyone else out when it’s all too loud

Now my friends are all too busy for me, no they don’t come around anymore, when I’ve never needed someone more, oh God I don’t want to feel so alone, but it’s all I’ve ever known

Thoughts race in, in all different shapes and I hate them, I can’t shut them down, I take my next breath and rub my blurry eyes, but I can’t make them see again, I can’t make this moon recognize me as a friend

But I could stare in the night for hours on end, just to try and feel anything other than what it is, so I run as far as I can, but feels like my bones too are made of this glass

God I tried so hard to be a part of the world, I didn’t want to be that girl, please just take me home, I don’t want to be the crazy one anymore

My heart skips every other beat inside my chest, my hands keep on shaking, can’t seem to find rest, but if I lie here praying still as can be, maybe tomorrow will never find me

Won’t you distract me, but there’s nobody there that I can see, and no one else to blame but me, so I sing songs in my head and try to pretend, but I can’t

I know that You’re there, You’ve answered my calls whenever I am scared, and it’s all the time, because honestly my eyes they never dry, and I think I must be going insane if I’m not already there, but I’m still here

But I can’t help but ever ask why all along, when I feel like an alien stuck where I’ll never belong, and I just want to go home, because the words have long separated us and they always come out wrong

And I don’t know how to translate souls aloud, not ever or when this panic takes my mouth, I try to say what I need but nothing ever comes out

I want to let go of this tension, but I can’t find a way to mention everything spinning inside at once, I can never finish what I needed to say because I haven’t begun, and it spins on and on

Seems like close could never be close enough to chase out all the ghosts twisting up your gut, do you know about the place where all the colors are like seeing them all for the very first time, a vivid new clarity surrounds every line

And when I first saw them I didn’t even know that I was dead, carrying a weight on my back heavier than lead, so afraid that those colors will forever fade, and no matter what they say I can’t see how it’ll be okay

Oh God I try so hard but I didn’t get very far, I just want to go home, I don’t want to be the crazy one anymore.

1.19 free write

This place has grown so empty my footsteps echo back down every barren corridor, these pallid unfeeling walls with every turn look just like the world, exactly the same everywhere you look, now I’ll be just another face amidst the sea of all you mistook

From the inside to my outside face, all I thought I’d be has finally come to change, and I’ll be another soul you won’t recognize because sooner or later we have to realize that tomorrow’s just a dream that every fool will chase for eternity

I just don’t know where to go, there’s got to be someone somewhere who knows how to break this sea of glass, who can take away some of the lonely hours that pass

It’s never coming around, I don’t have time to wait for second guessing now, life slips through the hourglass still standing, throwing around the time that we took all for granted

I’ve only got to get it right once and it’s enough for me to fade, to keep all the right turns to the end of this maze, just once to feel anything real, to find a heart that still knows how to feel

I have to redeem the time, all the impossible, mistakes to rewind, faces will deceive you every time, pretty convenience desired over the ugly truths we hide

The pain you carry inside will never go away, that emptiness we try to fill and it’s all in vain, I’d throw away all my today’s just to feel alive one more time and then never have to die again

I can’t keep up with the lie, trying to show only one side, hearts are messy, ours are in pieces, trying hard to see but sometimes I’d rather believe in anything else outside of my reach

This place is already so dead I cannot bear to stay to the end, but with the long weary road ahead, maybe I really just needed a closer friend.

1.17

The words don’t come anymore, they don’t really matter, and I know no one’s keeping score

They don’t even have to make sense to anyone else at this point, because I’m the only one that their absence is annoying

I’m divided between the loneliness and despising everything there is, the glass keeps getting thicker, I need something to help me break it

Would you believe I knew where you were up until the very end, but it doesn’t matter either, you won’t see past your own pretense

I am human in this skin, but somehow can’t manage to let anyone in, I don’t care, but my need is everywhere

I hate today, tomorrow is looking too late, always just searching, running to stay in place

Fool’s gold is my demise, anything real is too hard to find, to live is to change, too bad shitty things always stay the same

Time is up, no one’s heart will beat the same as yours, everybody wants to die, so welcome to the world

I can only play nice when it comes right down to mine, but life kicks you in the face and takes no partiality or breaks

Stealing kindness away from the heart, and while you’re still reeling it’ll tear you apart, we’re all drowning here, yeah it’s hard to feel.

Farewell to the elementary verbiage of my silently rotting soul, words are fucking useless now, they say nothing at all

Tired and beaten, dragged behind cart and horse, wired and uneasy, exhausted of discourse, for in the thousands of ways I scream to convey- I simply don’t speak in words anymore.

January 3rd free write

In my minds eye I can still see myself a child, lying on her bed staring up at the canopy lights, dreams in her head and the same music in the night- though I didn’t know then what it would mean

Unaware that You were Already There, and saw in my reflection a glimpse of a face I would not recognize for many years to come, and cry in the night, why did You call me here

Unaware how long that road would be, with the same big blue eyes that You first showed me, and the vague love songs that I would hang my heart upon, so strong and alive, oh how I wish I could turn back time

But here we are today, holding our breath here on out, the light gone away from its place in that gaze, there’s no turning back now

I know You saw back then and I can’t figure out if you still see me and where I’ve been, I know that You’re looking both there and here – I wish that my small simple tears were enough to dissuade the years

From falling upon me as they threaten to turn so, will you count Your righteousness to the girl of long ago, before living and the world and learning of its truth, before the corruption of everything I knew

I no longer feel noble, with thoughts that are simple and small, a still weeping child inside I can’t figure out how to console, in the emerging future looming ahead that I can no longer control

As if it were anything new to everyone on the planet, though there’s nothing new to say to equip me to stand it, it’s easy to write the answers into these empty spaces, but an agonizing war with its application

I know this truth but can’t bring myself to stare back at it for very long, like needles sinking in, stealing the strength needed to carry on

A child lies in bed, sleepless with excitement for the day that lies ahead, now the rising sun fills of only its fear and dread, and the many plagues that befall its people, to the right and to my left

I do not sit amidst the Assembly simply for the sake of disagreeing, as I fear my lot is to become just like them, my guilt and shame are multipled for honesty, and a heart waging war with its end.

12.24 free write

Give it away, change and replace everything in my life, I can’t afford to stay the same in my heart I know, but at the end of the day there’s nowhere left to start or go

From here, where nowhere far away is any better than near, where the people are empty and dreams are dead, no companion left standing to pretend

There is nothing new underneath the sun, nothing left of desire or to wish to be done, and I’ve made such mistakes- enough that you’d say I was insane

but to the girl who first wandered out upon this dry desert place, at that time it seemed like the only way, but now come of age, I don’t know how long I’ll have to suffer to pay, will I ever be forgiven what I put to waste, or forever wear the scars that grace my face

Of a song that never was,- but no one would listen anyway- in the smallest increments, I’ve tried so to explain

It seems the only way left to go is the path they say is impossible though, I’ve always had to find a different road, and now being alone is no worse than where the lonely crowd goes

Though I’m terrified I will confess, of life and time and our endlessness, and the words fall flat every time, they’re so much smaller than what’s screaming out inside

I know it’s already happened, that I just can’t see ahead, like a secret that’s been shown to everyone else instead, either or we are all deceived, holding onto the hope of a forsaken dream

With the words of a child all that I know, feeling empty and hopeless, cold and alone, I see how far I’ve come, but my only desire is to be done, so afraid of the road that lies ahead that I only pray by then to be dead

This war at which I was born to keep my hands, it never ends, and I wonder all for what, the signs they don’t make sense, the “answers” don’t add up

I know there’s no such thing as an everlasting love, that no one will care or listen like the man up above, and perhaps no one will ever understand me very much or at all, but I sometimes still wish I had someone to touch and hear when I call

I know that I shall not want, it’s nothing that I need, and everything else is a lie, but most times feel that I was born to bleed

Belonging nowhere above or below, because everything they say, twists my words to make me feel unknown, separated inside by the words I can never seem to find

I bite my tongue until it’s cut as my heart the same, because nothing I say will make it change anyway, none of your words ease the pain, only remind of the truth I try not to hate

Because when I built my castles to try and make a way to survive in this life, they came crashing down when I found their foundation was made of the sand washed away with the tides of time

No two souls are quite alike, so further I look the more I find, that I may be damned, and it kills me inside not knowing which was planned- or what to do next in a hopeless situation

From the very beginning to the breath of the last bend, all in that moment, will it then make sense, regardless of which- God, let it be the end!

12.20 free write

There’s a terror in my mind, it eats at me, keeps me up at night, I know that I can’t run to anywhere or anyone, for there’s none that I know who can loosen its hold

It’s not their job, it’s more than I can ask, there’s nothing I can say that’ll make them understand, afraid to need, terrified inside that they’d see this part of me

I’ve always walked my days alone, accepting some help but emotionally alone, the ever present feeling that the sky’s falling on me again, too weary to stay strong, too weak to play pretend

I walk into a widow’s world to find the burden is multiplied, taking my sorrow up from the floor, of only a glimpse of why she cries

And the decades all crash down upon me, like a still frame movie with the same tragic ending; as though all the labor, pain, and tears were all in vain and we’re left only with that fear

How Great That Darkness my friend, when it swallows you whole, it goes without end- can you make me feel better, permit me the selfish vein, for I cannot bear the day, and the nights bring only pain

It’s a lie and everything is broken in turn, and before it’ll build you up with hope, just to watch you burn, cut to see you bleed, the world is no different you see; life is loss and misery, sometimes dotted with mystery

Everyday is another battle in the never ending war, never knowing if I’ll make it because we’ve never been here before, it’s all already past, but still we’re here to fight regardless what’s been cast

Where do they hide it, if they feel this too, why can’t I be so strong, be as good as you, my voice calls aloud into the empty night, trying somehow to find the air just to survive

Why is time moving so much faster, why can’t you see nothing’s built to last and today is all we’ll ever have, no promise, no tomorrow to be assured, when I can’t fight this war anymore.

9.4 free write

In my lack of faith I can think You’ve finally decided to turn away, if You cared so much as they claim, how can things seem so bad and never change

But they also say that life is always changing, chirping aloud as though it were something to be anticipating, I’d be the first to agree however, but I’ve never seen changes for the better

Changes mostly seem to only take away the good things, in an overly simplified state of mind, like it’s a personalized and never- ending test with no attainable end to find, just fucking mindless, directionless misery

So I just dive right in, surely everyone must feel like this and it’s just another thing you didn’t know existed, the discoveries are sobering and so overwhelming, and the fantasies multiply to absolutely no telling

Like gasoline to a fire that’s already been burning from inside the skull to out, more evident, making more sense than ever before now, up against the wall where there’s no way out at all

Yet having been shown signs I can hardly believe, it always seems like You’re leaving me, how can God be supposedly so close and pain be all you know everyday, where does the blame go, oh absolve me of my fate

I try to go about with closed eyes when I cannot bear the truth, but know there’s nowhere to hide and there’s nothing left to do

A holy audience claims that everything was seen, every hidden verse and step taken in between, every tear and stifled scream, all of the fear and every lost thing, many as the days

Like these steps were hemmed in, and you never could have guessed it, trying to walk the right direction and all hope is still divested, you cry with everyone else, yet the burden never lessens

I don’t know how you don’t just scream, for one can be hungry, suffering, alone, searching for a meaning or most anything we know, but one cannot breathe without hope

If nothing escapes Your notice, where do You go when our nightmares come for us, now that time has come for mine?

9.1 free write

Once in this place there was a dream to hang your hopes upon, but the children are all grown and gone, out into the fields to toil and search to leave behind the breath of their work

Dreaming of love someday when there is more time, or someone around who can satisfy, but they never come upon that place again, a mere memory locked within their heads

A misty veil at the edge of that field evermore, where each one must stand with the mentors gone before, whether seen or unknown, you carry it on though, and there is no tomorrow

No rest for the dream of rescue or meaning, for the path is ploughed by every hour and to every man who’s ever looked to the clouds is another who can’t or doesn’t need to now

And the fallen will return with no face, to walk through these fears and pay for mistakes, the truth is no comfort in the times that we walk, each one alone must justify the burden of the clock

A breath, one breath are we, close your eyes and miss these things, but there is no blame in doing so, we each have our choice and we may refuse to grow, to each their own

For the lesson is bitter, thusly the faint of heart may reconsider, the field will never change, and a heart may fly away, but there is no consolation nor room for reservation

Just as the mourning doves above us, ever chasing their lovers, each to their place one after another, hands to work, dreaming as birds, but never really reached or recovered

But who can know if there is absolution for adversity without solution, for a struggle without resolution, wherein deception no longer offered its protection

So I took leave of these fields then, unaware that I could never return again, taking to the mountain to seek my last penance, trying to evade an unavoidable sentence

For I knew that the fields were full of locusts, their remnants ever remind, still I had vainly hoped that some other way I’d find

And upon my descent from Insanity, tears filled my heart and never departed from the vicinity of which bore my mark, Spared once for a time, but not for twice, and I saw it my lot to walk alone in life

No dreams of love nor illusion of excusal from above, no pity at all there be, as the only one at fault is me, and I regress to accept the price of my crimes, nod to my successors, and disappear from the field for all time.

8.22 free write

The time is so short that it seems surreal, I have to take a step back to remind myself it’s real, as though watching a flickering movie of moments, knowing they’ve been seen before, all my life I’ve known this but it’s never been harder to ignore

I was a child and now I am here, all beliefs dismantled and rearranged into what I can’t seem to help but fear- despite that life is change, pulling forward in rapid succession, where there is no returning, nor is there regression

To a former state of being and knowing much less, the seeming only key to a naive happiness, acceptance lies forward but always leaves me wanting- yearning, empty and afraid no matter what they say on these things

Not made by design, nor sitting right inside, the words they fail and fall as just another useless tide, growing, maturing to what will be, but the growing pains really are nothing worth having

Forgiven my tongue but I am who I am and have become, change is ever season, but why waste and wait for no reason, what do you want, what if it’s naught

Turn the leaves over again, I misunderstand providence, when death is only ever a second away, one jerk of the wheel yet today is evaded, inconsistent with what I see, this fear is always eating me

I see how the pieces fit, honored with divine intervention, yet still I’m so afraid I cannot take a breath and nothing they can say can lessen any of it

Longing is ever before, I push it back away, foolish to chase what is no more, but it never goes away, who is the author of our hearts, what is a choice, what’s just in part

Rest is so close but still so far away, but as though the further that you go the heavier the weight, endurance is the game, there is no second shot, weathered and learning pain, and this is all we’ve got

Were all so meant, how can I truly make peace on this way with all that lies ahead, illusion washed away, stones for the bed I’ve made, each worn by the testing trials of the waves

What will be left in these swift waters of old, time goes slow only when it’s set to wash away everything I’ve known

and all I can feel is this fear.

8.21

Pieces of puzzles never solved it seems, riddles and clues hidden in the walls to absolve the mystery

The truth is rarely simple enough to set in prose, if it had been written down, would you then have known

Sometimes it feels like they’re not just your thoughts at all, as whatsoever it may be echoes back into my skull

There are some things you can walk away from but never quite leave, impossible to explain but the only glimmer of meaning

All the blackened edges keep fraying in closer and closer to its center, where you thought you saw something beautiful but it may have been just a well presented disaster

These rope like cords hold my tongue, of an unspoken accord that runs on and on, but never quite meet one another

Always torn, always wrong, all will fail you, but you’ve got to choose one, I’m afraid these mistakes cannot be undone with the time, but I pray I don’t know where I’ll lie

But I take things way too far, and the consequences left more than scars, even still, I hear the voices singing over me until the very end

It was never easy to explain, it was never a thing to be seen, only to be felt in these empty spaces, all that’s left in between miseries.

8.16 free write

What can I say to You? My one final act, in my desperation, I built a fire that burned up to heaven just to gain Your attention, and so You came and sat beside me each night, to talk or just sigh with the silence

If I said what I felt, I would scream, I would weep, I would break absolutely everything in front of me, but instead I hold it all inside, because You said You’d give me anything I asked for, except the one thing I want and need to carry on in life

By chance, consequence, or God’s will in some sense, my entire world has gone away, everything’s broken and hope is devastated, I pleaded with tears, I begged with all of me, still the answer was no, oh so let Death follow me

You will tell me wisdom of old or what I may question You, I’ve tested You and resisted You with the unyielding will of a thousand men, until I saw a very glimpse of heaven, just to question You again

And I am awed that You still reply, but can’t You understand that I am ready and begging to die, You have allowed me to lose everything but the dry sustenance that keeps me alive, taken everything that I needed to survive

I’m already dead, I feel cheated, like You deceived me when the initial deal was made, if You know me so well, why keep me alive just for me to suffer these same things I cannot escape

Twelve years I have fought, gone to lengths unheard of, wandering in wonderland where I dare say no one understands, barely finding my next breath, but somehow making it worth it, small glimmers that I did not expect would disappear entirely

But now the war is lost and I can not bear the reality of my life being over, I do not argue my own righteousness but only for a moment of Your attention to end my misery for all time, let me rest where I’m meant and do not delay the destination

Will You bear to sit beside me as I cry for the rest of my short life? What is left when You alone know my heart and mind, how can You love me, why pay attention to the inconsequentials of the fields but skillfully ignore my crying pleas

Surely you do not shut your ears to the truth of my most intimate thoughts, when there is nowhere and no one left to go to of whom I have not, to find that there are no answers, only the ticking time that dismantles like a cancer

Take what is left from me evermore and give it all to the boy on the street corner, of whom there is spark and a will to live, why waste Your heart on someone who wasn’t meant to exist

I’m shown all these photographs of what is or what is past, but I can never go back, You’ve made it very clear a fact, and I know my life’s not so relatively bad, but I in my particular heart can’t live with what it is or has become, my time has run out, why leave me to rot when it’s done

Give to those who want, but why do You instead make the broken carry on while life is denied to those who still have desire, You know me well of old, You know I will be here for the rest of my life and cannot quell this torment of my soul

Oh God forgive me for failing this fight, I swear I really did try, now when people see, they think it’s fine, but that’s the twist, in wonderland everything’s backward from its appearance

Why even cry, for can you wet the ocean in its rising tide? The hours blur by and turn the nightmare into the daytime, can nothing I say change your mind? For no man can answer why the land’s Laws are thusly defied

I do not recognize myself and I can’t remove my skin, oh let me be so far apart and never remember it, how long, how long must we remain shadows of who we were, will we weep in bitterness of soul forever?

8.12

Days blur so violently together that they become just one, as though all those that differed long ago never happened or ever been done

There are none who will carry you away from this place, where feet fail and eagles run out of strength, clearly you can’t help yourself, but neither can they

With bleeding fists, fighting, trying to resist, but only pounding away at a taller wall of bricks, didn’t mean to build it, but who could have stopped the natural instinct of preservation

No use in regret, we all make due and give it our very best, but sometimes you can do it all right and still lose, it’s called life, hard to get used to

Where do we go next, when there’s nothing more to suggest, exhausted the options, just staring at a steering wheel that won’t be anything to you anymore, because the world has become too surreal to endure

When freedom and free will seem so far away that you can’t even remember what it was like those days, and can’t afford to wait and waste time, but waiting is all that remains you find

And surrender gets so hard to swallow when you’re losing all of your tomorrow’s, and sentences get too far away when it’s just another stupid fucking day

This is the real life we live, so I can only silently wish that we could find that one precious moment and become frozen there forever, but days just keep on going, wearing and taking, and someday’s sure looking like never

I too have forgotten who I am, It goes so damn fast, take a minute to look back and decide what moments made you feel awake- or at best alive, and chase that kind of immorality for the rest of your life

Clearly no one said that life was easy, but no one said that it would be this hard, even with the helping hands that hold us up, I never got to start

So please don’t let me decay here, though I’m not expecting any saviors, unsure still even what love is, and with the time I’ve grow only more afraid to live

I can only beg to find some peace to keep and silence these fears ever at the heels, and help forget for that moment to see how long time will let us steal.

8.9

There was nothing that could be said to make it any different or feel any better at all, whispering, it’s breaking in through every crack in the walls

That I tried to fill in with an illusion so I could try to hold onto life, having run for twenty-six years and now it’s come time to die

This is what’s right, it’s over

Every piece shattering, crashing down at the end of this time, threatening, irreparable, having become a fire of torment burning inside the mind

That you could never get out, nor put out, for one can neither go to the right nor the left, you can never leave nor find an exit

Now has come the time, it’s over

Desperate, as no one wants to die so slowly, the days I feared would come- back when I lived my life -have now fallen upon me, and I could not turn them back

The tide has come in so high, no longer treading water but crying just to die, as every wave breaks and steals the breath away

They were right, it’s over

I cannot write without hope to behold, when passion takes its flight and the fire smoldering in my soul, what is left, you know it well

I can neither find the words without that voice to lead me, let me back to this place, terrified as all the gaps are growing wider as reminders of what I’ll never see or feel again

It could not stand, it’s over

I stand at Hell’s mouth where there was no way back, and I realize now as I’m standing on the train tracks, I can only see her ghost, calling down to me to begin again The Climb, with short copper tresses glinting in the sunlight

I’ve chased her through life after life, but here in the field I see what it is to truly die, and the light at the end of the tunnel really was just headlights

Hurts worse than death, it’s over

And I lie frozen in disbelief here every and all night, tears ever fill my eyes because the good was replaced with fear, and I realize I will never reach her again, but only wander on alone until the very end

No more tears to be shed, it’s over

Here’s to the best days of life, gone away with the changing time, now I cannot bring myself to tell the rest of the tale, too close to me and these days that I dread, so these tracks then became a bed

My entire life comes down to this time, no more seeking, no more hope to me, tear my whole world down, It is over.

8.3 fragments

I’ll always wait here for you, You know, for to where else will I ever go?

When I’ve become so broken I can hardly move from this spot, I’ve pushed and tested in hopes to see that I’m not forgotten

The puzzle can’t be solved, the clues no longer fit together, it’s beyond my strength and mind, so here you shall long find me with my hands too shaken and weathered to hold

Please give me a sign to get me through the day, the lungs are empty and the soul it always aches for what’s slipping through trembling hands, and the terror that it will never return again

We could simply sit here in this silent space, not even say a word, because it always feels like the end is all that’s left, and every part hurts too much to be heard

Everyday has become a blur, try to focus the eyes but it doesn’t get any clearer, and the time just gets faster, never finding what we’re after

Having too long crossed the lines I didn’t think I could ever be forced to, having become another face I don’t recognize, and the cost far too undue

So what is there to say in the times that it doesn’t matter what we pray, and I am just one of the countless who feel this way

What of when the pain renders silence, when there are no answers nor care, nor way to express just how deep that despair, when you can’t feign a hallelujah and the days upon you- you just can’t bear to see, begging in prayer to wither with the Kikayon tree

What of when the widow cannot be comforted, and the lame do not walk again, when there is no help here for the fallen, when all the fires have gone down and your feet can no longer carry you out

It’s true you don’t know what you had until it’s gone, and after that it’s hard to carry on, and at the end of other matters I wonder if I’m really understood, and if I can’t understand, will I be charged as if I should?

8.1 Fragments

The garden is dead, I beg though you tell me, is it?

But I’d guess you can’t grow what you don’t water a bit

And the scorching trials of the sun have worn on everyone

I have to see in tunnel vision if I want to leave one final message

But who hears a song the same way as you, I’m not convinced any two do

Who sees color in the same shade, Surely neither of us feel quite the same way

No one can fill your shoes, and no one will know what you’ve been through

But god it runs so deep, between you and me, though simple and sweet is the trend it seems

And this doesn’t have to make sense to you either, as it’s essentially why I was here

you may think I’ve lost mine, but a mind was never an easy thing to unwind

Head down, so I said a kind of prayer, then suddenly in front of me a sign was right there

I couldn’t stop it from my eyes and I don’t think I ever will, if it’s for the rest of this life, I can’t see how it’s reconcilable

So having gone out, having stayed in, I will remain here now until the very end.

7.29 free write

I wish I could be original

But I’m just as broken as everyone else

Wish I could be beautiful

But I’m more weary than you’ll know

Wish I could breathe

But the air it gets more thin

Wish I could erase these mistakes

But now I wear them as my skin

Wish I could love

But there’s nothing I can give

Wish you could love me

But where could you even begin

Wish I could fly

So I could believe in tomorrow

I wish You would listen

But it doesn’t make a difference

We talk every single night

But all I can do is cry

I wish You cared enough

The way you did when I was young

Wish I could redeem the years that the locusts ate

but if I could have seen this coming

I’d have wished my life away

7.24 free write

They say that when God is silent he’s working behind the scenes, but after so much time it’s getting harder to believe

You try to hold on in prayer, keep doing the next right thing even though it hurts, then realize you’ve gone nowhere and the situation grown much worse

Where do you go when God says no, what do you do when there’s nowhere left to run to, when what they said was freedom turned out to be heavier chains, and the right was just different means for the same awful kind of pain

When the years go by and through your tears you keep trying, pushing beyond reminders of what was, ignoring the voices and the desire to lie down and give up

But things get worse even still, so you try your absolute best to write a brand new chapter, but at the end of the test it’s even more depressing after

What about when one plus one doesn’t equal two and it sure can feel like God must hate you, who in wonderland can give you a new solution

For the old one has lost its use and you’re starting over again to find what equals two, but you never do, or if you manage to get past step one, step two has changed all over again and you don’t know what to do

Time runs out each day as well and at each end the locks reset themselves, changing the puzzle, just to burn away the time, where do you go when instead of getting better, that someone ends up dying

They say God doesn’t answer prayers the way we believe He should, because He has a different currency, a different opinion of what’s good

But is it good if it brings its recipient suffering, if this is the case, why bother with asking for anything, everything has a price that can be had in this life, so what do we pray for when the answers don’t change the plight

We can change ourselves, or try to focus on something else, we can learn how to survive, but how good is it really if one would rather die

Lying on your bed, what was gnawing in your head, and through every motion, every swallowed emotion, everything tried to rewire a mind that really can only ever think of what you keep praying and praying and praying for

But God is silent and leaves you to the violence of what a hundred years won’t change, they say that God’s like a father to us, but then I think His love must be really strange

Because my grandmother was barren but prayed in her patience more than a decade for a child to be born, who was my mother who carried on to be normal and happy, married at eighteen, who brought forth another just the opposite of that stride, who’d pray and beg those same ten years just to die to hide

Holding the same audience, as though created for some form of entertainment, insane and alone and always unknown

They say when God is silent we don’t know how to hear, but we’ve been praying- waiting here for years- and it isn’t any clearer

but at the end of it all, it seems these dealings are permanent and that life will never return again, how does one mourn a life sentence that they most feared to hear, like how Jeremiah had to tell the Israelites they’d be imprisoned for another seventy years

Though God has kept me alive in this desert of my own, I too have grown to loathe the manna of which I eat alone, longing only for the ground from which my life once came, or to turn around and return to be the familiar slave

For just when you think you can make it on your own, one will humbled and by all it shall be known, but there is no returning from this place, there is no yearning but to the grave

With weights pressed down upon your chest and all who say that they know best, having gone the way that I was sent but upon the destination my body was spent

They most all say that God has a plan, but if you recall not even Moses entered the Promised Land, sometimes I think it would have been better to stay behind and whore away the little that remained of life

Though perhaps I did, for who knows the exact sentence, did I bow myself unto images or prosperity made with hands, did I deny myself redemption because I was just too weak to stand

God has sent mighty signs as clear as the sun in the sky, does He withdraw what He began, how can He hold me guilty if He alone understands, and saw what I would become long before I was a thought of the womb, like a curse that carries on through

They may cast their judgements as silent arrows raining down, but I can’t afford to care or to hold my tongue now, as there’s nothing left to hope for or upon, nothing on which to build the foundation on

From the very beginning it was build upon the sand, just as the grains fall to the end of the hourglass, for who can turn back the clock’s hands or hold the sun still, it’s not a matter of the can but a question of the will

The answers are bitter, at which the stomach reviles, but sweet is the end of these matters, to lie where there is no more desire and nothing more to lose

They say God- well it doesn’t matter what they say, who’s so sure they know the truth anyway? Or is it just whatever makes you feel better is “your truth”, but then it’s not truth at all, just another self serving view.

7.21 free write

It’s not true what they say, when they told you it’ll all be okay, because most of the time it’s not, and until the end it seems we never will be again

And I know that sounds awful dramatic a thing to say, but sometimes it’s a perfect storm that cannot be evaded, sometimes it’s not okay, no way to pretend and there’s nothing left to say

Sometimes all there is are short-term solutions, just trying to buy time before facing what’s sure to come back to you, then what more is to be done when the end is reached and you realize that this thorn is the one that you must keep

Whatever is feared the most controls me, whatever I ran from became my reality, and there is no more time to buy, having used up the last of my life

But the fear has been faced, and all the way here carried this weight, up to the top again and again, one can never stop, the burden is permanent

The kind of torment that takes away every other feeling, there is no more to lament but to feign a type of healing, how long did I think I could run away, how far could one go just to try and escape

The death that was meant evermore for them, the struggle that we all are born in, brick by brick, the fortress has been devastated, the more barren the walls lie the deeper therein I tried to hide

But this is not veiled any longer, I have seen myself and I have grown stronger, but it’s of no consequence, it wasn’t enough to be of any defense, I see that there is no way to save my life, than continue to live this fight I would rather die

There is no more biding, There is no more hiding, I know the truth is meant to make us strong and all , but perhaps we’re not all made for the long haul, the best days have fallen long behind, having tried so hard to hold onto a lie

And I’m not here to bring more pain, it’s just that it’s been such a long fucking way, having dug myself back up out of every pit with a plastic fucking spork and the unanswered question

But who the fuck gets so stuck, that they wait and try and waste until they just give up, who feels so misunderstood and inept that they never manage any progress as they would expect

I want to be wrong for once, I want to look ahead and make an incorrect prediction, I want the future to hold what I wouldn’t expect to come into fruition

Self-fulfilling prophecy they say- but once upon a time I was so naive of the delicate nature of fate, “that’s insanity, I’d never let that happen to me”

And they also say you just never know what the future holds, some things go to shit and some things turn to gold, but I haven’t seen that latter part much, mostly that everything just starts to rust

Oh to have died before knowledge of the tortured world we behold, when you opened your eyes and believed fortunate stories unfold

I think the author got distracted, or couldn’t bother to erase the characters that detracted or didn’t belong to the plot, the ones with the kind of attitudes that just ended with a shot

Why give to some and withhold from those who desire in their heart, all these endless questions and we’re even farther from the start, I do not understand, I know nothing at all; how much of it is planned and how much will be my fault

Yet either way it seems I will be here to the end of time.

Fragmented 3

I need Your words more than the air I breathe, food is ash in my mouth, sleep eludes me, water does not quench a dying soul and there is no lie convincing enough to hold

Me here, what can save me before I decide it’s too late, what feels like it’s nearer with every day in a nightmare from which one may never wake

Tell me You can save me like you did all those who cried to You, show me that You didn’t create a heart that can’t be consoled or turned away from what it’s decided to do

You send me creatures in the night to pass the hours in my sighing, but they can’t understand my tears, tell me who can, tell me You hear, why would I leave, to where else will I go, You’re the only one who will ever know

Who I used to be, what all disassembled me, that there can be no returning as the night has hedged me in, stolen away everything I needed just to live

Pleasure is as pain when you don’t feel the same ways, every day is a chore through searing steps desired no more, where are those who’ve gone before, they all moved on or settled the score

To where will I go at the end of my breath, when the days grow more shallow and all that’s left is death, to where does it’s deliverer go, won’t you tell me if you know

Your father didn’t get your words, tell me you understand, all grown up and dead like the world, catch what little you can

But give me my heart’s desire, tell me who am I, more than the problems defeated by, or less than what was planned

How much can love ignore persistent cries, if from up above it’s been heard ten thousand times, just another and another, starving for reason of which can’t be recovered

Heart beats that are incomplete, barely breathing, insides heaving, clawing at the walls, trying not to fall standing in the blood of everything been done, the oxygen is empty, like being beyond redemption

But screaming, screaming so fucking loud just to find your way out and the walls keeps getting closer together, when everyone said just keep going and it’ll get better

but life is cruel and I am not the only one, just ill-equipped to deal with what’s been done, and it is killing everyone.