Thursday, June 17, 2010
The years have passed, the slate’s been wiped, the sand has slipped slowly through the hour glass, and now sits peacefully in a mound of its own creation. We’ll never have that opportunity to go back; we’ll never have the opportunity to do anything aside from reflect. To find peace is to take solace in knowing actions are permanent and feelings are temporal.
I’ll be accountable for what I do, to hide is a sense of fear, is something I cannot respect. So I accept the consequences of my actions, I’ll be fine in the twilight not needing to fight off the demons that don’t exisist. Think of me what you will, I would relinquish that control, but it’s not mine to give up. Say what you want but that won’t unmask truth just do enough to blindly fill that void. I’m not here for you; I don’t have to answer to you, just myself and the almighty end. The little things I’ll hide, my emotions will show you the truth. Leave me, love me, lose me, it’s the system we know, it’s the game we play, but when it’s over what does the score even mean… Yeah I can appreciate the humor in this coming from me, but it isn’t much different from what I’ve always said, maybe just more eloquent in its guise.
Can I fight to keep sane, should I fight? Or should I embrace the calamity with open arms and find some calming grace in the chaos we all wrap ourselves in. Would I rather an existence where everything was unceasingly serene, or am I plagued to search out the dysfunction, for the sheer excitement it brings? Would I rather be bored and at peace; or would I rather deal with the blue ruin as it comes? I’m a child of great fortune. I’m a soldier in my own great war. I’m a victim to no one that I didn’t give power to first. I’ve forged an existence of perpetual bliss and consistent turmoil, and I bask in the greatness they make as the two entwine. Though I have escaped the forked tongue, I am still a victim to its daftness; I’m no longer in that state or denial or recovery. I’ve done what I’ve done, and I’ve acknowledged it, I’ve accepted it… but I haven’t learned to move on. Still I hope for more, but at least that hope doesn’t spring forth from places I’ve been, people I’ve known, people I’ve wronged, people who’ve wronged me—now it comes from the hereafter.
Control is nothing more than a thought we create in order to feel at ease with the uncertainty. We believe we have control, we believe we are guaranteed some right to dictate where we go and what we do, it’s only until we get there that we understand those serendipitous turns. I have no control over me, why would I begin to imagine I have control over you, or the situation at hand. Acceptance of peace or acknowledgement of defeat; we’re all in a lose, lose battle…we can learn from the outcome or we can keep fighting and never let any of the good reckon with the people we strive to be.
I looked into her eyes as she confesses truth, looking for some sense of remorse and absolution from my presence. Our child was lost, our children would never be, though at once they may have, this is a fact that we’ll have to deal with in our own way. Do I honor them by bringing their mother down? Do I disgrace them for never being able to say hello, and only giving them a wistful goodbye? I live and they do not, but at most I can live for them, and in that they could have some life through me. I’ll never forget them, but I can never forgive her. I didn’t carry you, so I didn’t know that immediate loss, I didn’t know what it was like to be connected, but that isn’t to say I didn’t know you, that I didn’t look forward to you in my arms. I’ll carry you always, with a warm thought and a longing smile. I will make you proud. I will make myself into the man I was supposed to be, into the man I fight to be.