Friday, August 3, 2012

When All I Can Do is This...

I don't hate you for having more than me. I dislike the way you make lording all you have over me a spectator sport. According to you, I am trash. I am worthless. I need to work harder. Why can't I work harder? Why can't I tow the line, be a "man," be SOMETHING other than a drain on my fellows? I was born into the absolute perfect circumstances. Out of the test tube, right into the flames of existence. Oh wait, I'm not "normal." You don't really need to know that though but it is hard to keep it a secret. The elephant in my brain makes itself obvious every time I try to pound myself into one of those conveniently located round holes. I don't hate you. Some days I thank the creator for not molding me into your image. Some days, I wish I didn't know the difference.

I wake up in the morning, and suddenly the sun is kissing the horizon on the other side. I seem to be going slower than everyone. I seem to be speeding by faster than light. I never seem to be in phase with the crowd. I am aware of everything that surrounds me as I sidestep people who can't even see me. If not for the rhythm of the bass in my ears, my mind would be lost in some sort of auditory conflagration. The colors of the day ring like a bell inside my head. Sometimes it all becomes too much.

I am well aware of how things are "supposed" to be. I am also aware of all the variations supposed tends turn into. Denying my nature was suicide but somewhere I was convinced that fitting in meant that I would succeed. It didn't take me long to figure out the truth behind the mask. I want to be angry. I want to stand up and make it rain. I want to flood the earth and start the process over. I'm not angry at the situation, though. The struggle is what I was called here to participate in. Real life spirals through the sky and breaks up in the atmosphere, blasting me with searing rock at every opportunity. I can shield against it most of the time. There are those days, those moments, where I am to the very core of my soul, tired. I want to silence the voices, block out the vibrations and just sleep.

I sleep in the traditional human sense of the word although not as much as I probably should, given the fragility of the human body. There is a state of rest that transcends the human frame, however, that I long to embrace again. It never comes often enough, although more than once a in a lifetime is a blessing of great magnitude. I know that accelerating the process will have less than desirable results. I may fail and do more damage to an already damaged body or worse yet I may succeed and face the consequences of a moment of weakness. Sometimes, the concequences be damned. It is the times where I just am too exhausted to care, the times where I actually may make a decision that could damage the universe.

Am I there yet?

1 comment:

  1. Lovely, par usual! I envision a book of poetry and musings one day. :)

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