|
| I've seen it in a dream, once or twice before.
One big green hill sporadically lined with flowers that very nearly dwarf me in size.. a few hundred feet above and a dozen miles away from the nearest signs of civilization. It's a place with an intermittent breeze and a constant 77 degree temperature, day or night.
In this place, there is nothing but time. No schedules. No relationships. No worries. No money. No pining.
Nothing but the things I carry immediately on mind.. in a place with enough ambient beauty to put it all into proper perspective, and then file it aside in order to enjoy an indefinite moment of natural stillness & emptiness so complete.. that every single one of my synapses and brain cells not occupied with an involuntary function.. and even some of the ones that are.. can be used to process every last bit of sensory.. of light, sound and tactile sensation coming from the world around me.
Just maybe I'll allow.. one other person who's come to that place to seek out some peace to share mine with me.
That's my idea of paradise.
I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too! |
| | |
|
I do not know what more to write. I do not feel well. The moments in which I do feel well are.. actually quite few in number. They happen.. they're just so rare.
I have several recurring thoughts & that's mostly all. I think about the time that has been lost. My thought about it is that.. I am nowhere close to where I should be, but it's now too late to start that race.. too late to backtrack and start this half of life, again.What I feel is that my only hope for eventual salvation lay in all-out pursuit of the specific time and place I wish to be.
What I know is that, for the moment, a cold night is coming. Things seem to have died between Nelly and I. Perhaps that wasn't so avoidable. It still seems like a shame but I'm mostly willing to admit things aren't salvageable between us. Hostilities between myself and family are resuming, unprovoked as always. I guess that was overdue but the long ceasefire was somewhat nice.
I am also just now recovering from a foot injury that damn near bled me out, 2 weeks ago. I can walk again, and I seem to have kept all my appendages intact, at least.
It's difficult, but not impossible, to acknowledge the positives in life.
It could just be the approaching winter, which anyone who knows me.. knows that to be a sap on my spirit; I expect to become inoperable, for the most part, although I have every intention of fighting it. I can just... feel.. that.. the war I've waged will be over soon. It hasn't gone on for long enough to forget what I'm out for.. but it has gone on long enough that.. so much, mainly precious time, has been lost.
I wish for an end to the fighting, right as it's gotten it's most intense. I am slowly gaining ground for my final attack. It will still take another year, maybe just less, to prepare. What I must adamantly insist upon, in that time, .. to myself and to those around watching.. including the God who sent me here unarmed.. is that I do not surrender & I will not be defeated. There is still a dream in my eyes.
I want to go home. I believe I know where it is. I knew, for years. I have finally come to a point where I can lend myself, fully, to the reaching of this place.
One thing I have learned while at war, is that change is as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.. and doing it. Doing this has taught me that it's OK to let go and watch for the path that comes, as you go along.
I have followed my instinct and begun to let go, some.. and just as I thought.. opportunities have begun to surface, forming an avenue that I will spend the next year or so traversing.
My one and only mission now, is to make it from here to the next objective. From there, I will refuel again.. and move on to the next objective. I will repeat this process... until I have made it home.
For me, this war has come down to just that. There is no reclaiming things lost. No achieving vengeance. There is only getting home. This is all that's mattered for a long time, now.
I will get there, in time.. and whosoever wishes to take it from me... or bar my way... had better be prepared to die at least as many times as I already have
|
| | |
|
Guided only by the lessons learned since the start of the war and mindful of the cost that carrying it on in the ways that I have, for the reasons I have and to the end products I have sought, I can only come to one concurrent thought about it.
I have watched the flags of victory come up all around me; Each of my brothers & sisters has found either salvation, or their way to it. Yet, I remain at war.. having not held onto a single grain of sand or solace than I began with.
I do not know the reason. Not exactly. But, drawing from my own past, I know what may be required.
As far as I can recall, the closest I have come to final victory has always been when I was forced to lay aside all that I had and trade it for something else.. lunging myself, thusly, outside of my little world and into another completely unfamiliar one, where I could make my way.. starting from nothing.
Perhaps the only solution is, indeed, to tear everything down & start again. The alternative is to continue a war that I am not losing.. but not winning either.. or to turn tail and concede all my capitol gains, forsaking my will for peace.
Neither of those is acceptable. I've given too much time to the eventual acquisition of my statehood. I will not let that slip from my agenda. Not now. Not ever.
I just think it's time that my strategy changes. As previously stated, I intend to stop the buck this very year. 5 years I've lost to this. 3 of them in ascent from ruin, but internal descent.
I've learned that God.. or whomever is commanding this experiment.. makes a way to thrive if I will but have the courage to lay aside all in my possession to pursue that way. At least once before I've unintentionally tested that.. and here I sit. Not free.. but alive.. (which was all I could ask for, at the time).
And so, before the winter comes, I think that's what I'll do. Every sign or source around has been telling me to.
It's rather inconvenient that I would come to that conclusion now.. but better now than never.
I'll call it.. Operation Samson :).
Here goes.
|
| | |
| Love is.... hmm...
The unconditional and willful surrender of what things need be forsaken in exchange for a state of fulfillment, utile living, for a gratifying sense of purpose, for a sense of the things bigger than oneself for access to a state of secret and sacred happiness, for small but spiritually important securities.
It is a set of privileges and responsibilities. A set of restrictions and a set of new freedoms. A path to salvation, yet an easy pitfall to complete oblivion at the same time. It is a lifestyle and a religion not at all of this earth or of man's design. It is the one thing worthy of one's devotion, fanaticism, hope and courage to dream. It is the power to live forever and do literally anything.
It is as wonderful an inception as it is a truly terrible weapon. It is a force that can take a person who has nothing and give them everything.. and likewise reduce a king of kings to ash.
It is the one thing a person can do to bring forth dimensions and capabilities from within.. even those propensities of which a person was previously not aware.
It is the most fearsome of all the emotions that should have stayed in Pandora's box. Love is the one thing that can either grant the one's given it eternal life.. and the one thing that betray it's master, leaving it for dead but still without permanent regret.
It is.. one of the few things on Earth who's power I've come to fear as much as I respect and admire it's beauty.
It is.. one of a few things I am still trying to conquer my fear of :).
I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too! |
| | |
|
I've been feeling an onrush of information overload. It's succeeded, entirely too much, at pushing me toward a meltdown. I want to try to write down, line by line what's been overwhelming me, so as to try to avert that. I doubt it'll help that much.. but there's no other means of expressing it all, so here goes.
My campaign has come down to a single mission and a long term goal. The single mission is to force a clean break from here and now, and win my freedom once and for all. It doesn't matter if it's a crash-landing, or if I have to spend a while in faraway streets. I've done that before, so it's not something I'm too afraid of. From wherever I end up, I can begin again. It doesn't matter if I start with nothing. I can and will build everything from that nothing.
Ever since I drew this plan, though, I seem to have encountered crushing pressure at home.. and a jeopardized landing zone, on the other side. It'll pass, I think, but the two seem to have come as a package that I'm finding it had to cope with. Looking on the bright side of the situation: I managed to avert further invasion. Earlier this season, I was staring straight down the barrel of having to deal with another antagonist moving her way into my life. Had it happened, it very well would've been the end of my war. She would've been too severe of a setback to operate under. I likely would've turned and fought, and then called it a night.
Thankfully, this particular storm decided to move elsewhere, rather than settling over my sandbox. She's too busy trying to live her own life, now, it seems... to continue trying to be another dark cloud over mine.
Also looking on the bright side: I am finally armed to proceed. The very moment I'm clear to land, where I'm going, I will take off. That's right, I managed to arm myself for another suicide mission :D.
... That is.. after all the events and business of the summer to which I'm obliged are done. My sister (the one with the big house that I helped her get, 2 luxury SUVs, 3 children and 2 adoptees) is organizing a big party, on the 22nd for all the children.. at which I have dunk tank detail. I haven't volunteered for it, yet, but I think I will. It just occurred to me that I might enjoy it. There's also a family reunion somewhere around then.
It's the last time for a long while, maybe ever, that my people get to see me.. and I'm determined to leave as much peace as possible, in my wake.
I also have to finish a site I've been commissioned to build. It's a site for the Michigan Coalition of Black Farmers. I met one of the founders (Henry Reed) & his wife at the post office, 3 weeks ago. We've agreed to do business and I will do my best to service his organization. That will be my last act as a civil individual, before I take off like a thief in the night, to take back my life.
This time, I've taken the liberty of explaining what I'm about to do.. in a letter to the only person I owe any thanks or explanation to. I thought I'd write it out so that I say everything I've wanted to. I want the last words that end this war to be in defense of my actions, but also extending of peace in the future. I wanted to convey every note of gratitude, frustration, love and anger that I've ever felt. I wanted to convey an explanation of my purpose. I'm liable to forget some or most of that, explaining from my own mouth, when the time comes. This time, though, it has to be complete... because there won't be a next time. I would sooner die than fall back to Earth in defeat, a second time.
It took about 9 weeks to finish the letter.
Meanwhile, I've been pondering the validity of my feelings toward Nelly. It isn't that I don't have them... but I'm almost certain that we wont last because she's too big of a mess.. or at least her life is. In addition, my guard is up. She's given me every reason to feel unsafe. I am still with her for two reasons, though. They're good ones, I think. One.. she doesn't need another kick in the face while she is very much down in life. She does need support and some bit of understanding from someone who does wish her well. I seem to be the only one in that category, at the moment. Two: I have a faint feeling that it might amount to something, should I stick it out and stick by her.
She's not been faithful to me, but nothing she's done particularly hurts. It just makes me not want to go all-in. Rather, it makes me aware that I shouldn't. The least I'm prepared to do is see her through to a less tumultuous time in her life. After that, I will ...go with whatever most agrees with me, when that time comes.
I've also been in contact, I guess is the right word, with Kirsten recently. She seems to care, entirely too much in my opinion.. because it's just me after all, about the fact I still harbor some anger over what she did and how things went between us. As I said before, and to her, there isn't a thing I can do about it. I hadn't thought about it in a long while but I suppose it's still there. I didn't want to sound insensitive, because you can lose a conversation with her very easily by being too crude, most times,.. but there was no nice way to say that.. people typically stay mad, even if it's buried deep down.. when you hurt them deeply. It isn't as though I.. hate her guts or.. don't care about her anymore.
If push came to shove and I was asked, again, to go into harms way to protect her life.. I most likely would. So it's not that I'm hostily angry. It just hurts, in that part of me which I've buried alive. There is a lot of hurt that I simply threw under the tank and buried alive.. having never tried to come to terms with it. What hurts the most is that, when I think about it, what I believed we had was ..something of.. wonderful simplicity.. and inescapable beauty.. turned out to be quite escapable. It ended up being just another promised forever, sunken by time, circumstance and conflicting individual wills. To me, it was one of a kind.. and so would all the time that was stolen have been.
Talking about it now feels like throwing up. I don't know how to explain that other than to say that... I have a mixture of old feelings.. good memories and painful ones. Good conversations.. and excruciating ones.. all of them are bubbling up at once. Just for example, I remember how it felt when she kissed me.. rather I remember not wanting it to stop.. ever. I thought, each time,.. that it was everything I'd hoped for.
But I also remember what it felt like to watch her kiss someone else. And to watch her come alive when he came around.. while she stayed solemn and silent in my presence, most times. I remember feeling stripped, exactly at that moment, of something that was supposed to belong solely to me. I had crossed out of denial that I'd lost my home, right at that moment. I don't think I'll ever forget either.
I'd never tell her this, for not wanting her to get the wrong idea,.. though I don't even know what's happening, myself. Amid all the other things by which I'm overloaded, I'm unable to really process it. Even if I could understand it, I wouldn't know what to do with those feelings accept bury them alive, again.
My hardest task has been to keep those things in the past. I want to keep them buried, alive or otherwise. The reason being that nothing can be done about them now.. and, while that's true, they only get in my way and cause undo trouble. One of the things that I did successfully force myself to accept is that what I did have, whatever it was, was lost. I failed to keep it. I failed to protect it. Yesterday is, indeed, gone ...and will never be again.
I've moved past that loss on the premise that tomorrow will bring something different, for me. What I believe is that tomorrow is all I have.. and that today should be used, by me, in the fight to secure it.
That was always my philosophy, come to think of it. But I use it now, a little differently. See, my past is filled with lots of hostility.. lots of pain.. lots of things and time lost in the fires of war... lots of things destroyed despite my best efforts. These are things that I feel I can.. surpass and survive.
I still feel like there is some hope to have nice things in the future.. but that I must let go of the past in order not to be barred from them. I feel like.. tomorrow is my only source of hope.
My task has become to secure that, without breaking down and without losing my footing. To do that work, I defer to the separatist soldier inside me. I am hardening and preparing for what I have to do, just as I learned to do when I marched to war in Boston. Only this time, the march is for my constitution and it is to be done without the madness and without the humbling extremes that I experienced, that time.
Speaking of it, though: For once, I also know what specific tomorrow I'd like.
Years ago, I had a dream of what I wanted to do and where on this Earth I wanted to go. It's a dream I've sacrificed more than once, to pursue other things that seemed more worthy or more down-to-earth. It's a dream that, until recently, I'd given up for dead or impossibility. Now that I've been told how it's possible.. and where to go.. how to do it.. I've decided that my rebuilding will be pursuant to making that dream so. It will likely take me far away, progressively so as I reach out to the different staging areas that are ever further from here, and ever-closer to want I need to be. This is the final destination toward which I've turned my gears of war. Where and to do what are to be my best kept secrets, as of now.
I will run, fly and try like there's no tomorrow... because I've come to the conclusion that there wont be one, if I don't.
I require distance from everything that's ever torn me down or taken the legs from under me. I have two open invitations to good staging areas. If one doesn't work out, I'll make my way to the other. It will be abysmally expensive to make it all happen, but that's why I have hands. My hands made the first step possible. They will carry me into the last step, surely.
Onward, to tomorrow.
|
| | |
|
