I watched a good movie last night called Happy Endings, if you haven't seen it I recommend it. When I was done watching it I found myself restless though, unable to sleep, and no matter how hard I tried my thoughts spiraled inward, and I became introspective, reflective. The movie was over at 5:15 am mind you and while I was well aware that sleep should have been beating on my door to drag me to the depths of... where ever it is we go when we dream, it remained elusive; even when I went searching for it. My mind raced with selfish thoughts:
"Who am I?"
"What am I doing here?"
"Where am I going?"
And as I layed there awake, staring out of my window and singing quietly to myself I began to notice a subtle shift in the quality of darkness permeating my room; the dawn approached. I noticed then that the morning birds were chirping with gusto and was only slightly alarmed that I had completely failed to notice them up until that point, so engrosed was I with the inside of my own head. Looking through my window at the lightening sky I was suddenly struck with the thought that this was always my favorite time of the day and that I never get to experience it anymore. I am not a morning person, so don't get the wrong idea. Ever since I was about 11 I have been a night owl, and when I got older and joined the work force I took jobs that nurtured that aspect of my character, I am a swing/graveyard shift kind of person and often in my early 20's I found myself on a back porch somewhere watching the approaching dawn.
The smells, the sounds, the fog, the feeling that the day before was now in the past and it was time to look ahead to tomorrow, the dew on the grass, the cold, everything. I love everything about the morning, as long as I don't have to wake up to it; because chances are I stayed up late. Some of my most favorite memories take place in the predawn, and lying there I was confronted by a flood of wonderfulness that I had all but forgotten about. Remebering in a flash like that it was almost as good as when the events had actually taken place, and for a brief moment I was a time traveller skipping across parts of my life that I have purposefully blocked out because it is just too damn painful to remember the things that I have had to give up due to my paralysis.
Noticing that my cat is on my desk in front of the window also watching the dawn I went out on a limb and started talking to him about what I was remembering and how I felt about it; he mostly just ignored me as expected but every once in a while I would notice an ear twitch back in my direction and I knew he was at least listening, even if he didn't give two shits. You may laugh but I am convinced that he understands english perfectly well. Talking to a cat is not ideal I realize, and if I had had my laptop I would have just wrote it all down, but this just had to come out and he was the only one around; I talked for an hour at least while watching the world brighten and wake up around me, and for the first time since I can remember I shed happy tears. I am not a cryer mind you so I was very, very surprised to find myself choking back sobs while talking to an uninterested cat.
Very peculier indeed.
I realized then just how much I have changed in 4 short years, as this particular activity probably would have been laughed at by the me that created these memories. I might have even recommended seeking professional help if someone had trold me this story back then. So I sat up in my bed, lit up a smoke and just sat there, no lights on, no tv, and took a serious look at myself. It was sobering to say the least and I found myself glancing again and again at my guitar, I wanted so badly to play at that moment and not being able to fulfill that desire and old habit was almost enough to suck me back into the mire that is reflection of self. It's amazing the things you stumble upon when you are forced to deal with yourself though, it is so easy to escape when you have the ability to get up and go find something to entertain yourself; be it work or play. It is something that we take for granted in today's world of cheap, easily accessible video games, and cell phones, and computers, and motor vehicles, and bars, and television, etc., etc., etc. One thing I know for certain is that being paralyzed for a week would do a lot of people a lot of good, although maybe that wouldn't be long enough, it was easy for me to fake it for the first week and it has taken me years to get to this point. Where I am at exactly I still dont know, but I do know that I have found something in myself that I didn't even know I had, or didn't have. I knew that I was missing something but I could never put my finger on it before, could never pin it down, and honestly I never really tried... I was too busy. Now though, through an almost unbearable amount of pain and suffering, a complete breakdown of pride, an utter lack of selfish pursuits, and hour upon hour of time spent alone in quiet contemplation I believe that I have discovered what I was missing: My own soul.
It's just too bad that now that I have the missing piece of the puzzle, the rest of the puzzle has been thrown away; by my own hand. I think that most people have to wait until they are very old to make this discovery, if they ever do, and I am gratefull that I can truly appreciate the things in my life that are good. But for me it brings to life the saying "youth is wasted on the young." I understand this throughout my whole being now and I know that my "youth" has already passed me by, even though I am still young. Not a happy thought at 28 years old but it is what it is. That is life. I only hope that someone will read this and realize that they may be searching for the wrong thing before its too late.
I love you all, and may peace find you while you are still able to enjoy it.
"Who am I?"
"What am I doing here?"
"Where am I going?"
And as I layed there awake, staring out of my window and singing quietly to myself I began to notice a subtle shift in the quality of darkness permeating my room; the dawn approached. I noticed then that the morning birds were chirping with gusto and was only slightly alarmed that I had completely failed to notice them up until that point, so engrosed was I with the inside of my own head. Looking through my window at the lightening sky I was suddenly struck with the thought that this was always my favorite time of the day and that I never get to experience it anymore. I am not a morning person, so don't get the wrong idea. Ever since I was about 11 I have been a night owl, and when I got older and joined the work force I took jobs that nurtured that aspect of my character, I am a swing/graveyard shift kind of person and often in my early 20's I found myself on a back porch somewhere watching the approaching dawn.
The smells, the sounds, the fog, the feeling that the day before was now in the past and it was time to look ahead to tomorrow, the dew on the grass, the cold, everything. I love everything about the morning, as long as I don't have to wake up to it; because chances are I stayed up late. Some of my most favorite memories take place in the predawn, and lying there I was confronted by a flood of wonderfulness that I had all but forgotten about. Remebering in a flash like that it was almost as good as when the events had actually taken place, and for a brief moment I was a time traveller skipping across parts of my life that I have purposefully blocked out because it is just too damn painful to remember the things that I have had to give up due to my paralysis.
Noticing that my cat is on my desk in front of the window also watching the dawn I went out on a limb and started talking to him about what I was remembering and how I felt about it; he mostly just ignored me as expected but every once in a while I would notice an ear twitch back in my direction and I knew he was at least listening, even if he didn't give two shits. You may laugh but I am convinced that he understands english perfectly well. Talking to a cat is not ideal I realize, and if I had had my laptop I would have just wrote it all down, but this just had to come out and he was the only one around; I talked for an hour at least while watching the world brighten and wake up around me, and for the first time since I can remember I shed happy tears. I am not a cryer mind you so I was very, very surprised to find myself choking back sobs while talking to an uninterested cat.
Very peculier indeed.
I realized then just how much I have changed in 4 short years, as this particular activity probably would have been laughed at by the me that created these memories. I might have even recommended seeking professional help if someone had trold me this story back then. So I sat up in my bed, lit up a smoke and just sat there, no lights on, no tv, and took a serious look at myself. It was sobering to say the least and I found myself glancing again and again at my guitar, I wanted so badly to play at that moment and not being able to fulfill that desire and old habit was almost enough to suck me back into the mire that is reflection of self. It's amazing the things you stumble upon when you are forced to deal with yourself though, it is so easy to escape when you have the ability to get up and go find something to entertain yourself; be it work or play. It is something that we take for granted in today's world of cheap, easily accessible video games, and cell phones, and computers, and motor vehicles, and bars, and television, etc., etc., etc. One thing I know for certain is that being paralyzed for a week would do a lot of people a lot of good, although maybe that wouldn't be long enough, it was easy for me to fake it for the first week and it has taken me years to get to this point. Where I am at exactly I still dont know, but I do know that I have found something in myself that I didn't even know I had, or didn't have. I knew that I was missing something but I could never put my finger on it before, could never pin it down, and honestly I never really tried... I was too busy. Now though, through an almost unbearable amount of pain and suffering, a complete breakdown of pride, an utter lack of selfish pursuits, and hour upon hour of time spent alone in quiet contemplation I believe that I have discovered what I was missing: My own soul.
It's just too bad that now that I have the missing piece of the puzzle, the rest of the puzzle has been thrown away; by my own hand. I think that most people have to wait until they are very old to make this discovery, if they ever do, and I am gratefull that I can truly appreciate the things in my life that are good. But for me it brings to life the saying "youth is wasted on the young." I understand this throughout my whole being now and I know that my "youth" has already passed me by, even though I am still young. Not a happy thought at 28 years old but it is what it is. That is life. I only hope that someone will read this and realize that they may be searching for the wrong thing before its too late.
I love you all, and may peace find you while you are still able to enjoy it.
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
knives_hannibal:
Happy burfday!!! May it be as wonderful as you! And a pony if you want a pony
sniper:
Your still here!!!!!! Yayyyy, that makes me so HAPPY!!!!