Conversation For Myself
For the last couple of weeks I have been slowly recovering from the anxious, dreadful feeling that I was going to have a nervous breakdown. In fact, I am still certain that I will, someday. I've wanted to cry, to shed a tear, something but nothing will come out. I want to scream and I tried that but that really hasn't worked either. I want to run to a far away place and begin a fresh, new life, but I know that all of my demons, the ones I want to escape from, will be right there where they have always been, inside of my head torturing me. I think I understand now why people stick their hands in fire and blow their brains out with a revolver. It's to feel something different. Yeah it's pain, but it is something new to them. Something that will just shut those demonic fuckers up long enough so they can hear their own voice again without all the aggravation and frustration that comes along with years of bile living in your gut and head.
Right now I am attempting to focus on settling down and writing the things that have been living in my head for the last three years. I mean I finally dug my notes out of the box I put them in when I moved and have yet to re-read them, although once I glance over them everything will comeback to me. I don't even know if I need to... I know the story, I lived it.
I had a dream this morning that end of the world was slowly taking place. I told people that I had a dream about World War Three but now that I think about it, that's not accurate. The dream was a place, perhaps a place I once lived or will live in and I remember seeing loved ones or their ghosts at least and I remember this feeling, this sad feeling that I wanted to reach out and communicate with those ghosts that I could not see. I wanted to tell them something, something that I would want to say, but maybe my words would only be a waste of time for them, a hassle almost. No matter how hard I tried, nothing worked to reach them. I know who I wanted to talk to, I wanted to say... something, but what in the hell am I going to say? Time wasn't on my side I guess. To much had changed in too soon of a time and all I wanted to do is reach out to them and hug them, tell them.... But the opportunity was gone. It was only a dream but lately I've been thinking I had an opportunity and now it is gone and I have to wonder if that opportunity will ever re-surface again, before the bombs go off and the voices are lost forever....
Why do I find it so hard to communicate with people??? I tell them my life is an open book and that they can ask me anything but I find conversation in my life to be scarce. If this person happens to be a woman, I am this clue less man wanting to ask the right questions, hoping to engage this person to open themselves up to me and in the process I am usually building the biggest blinders one can imagine and am left falling for the person that I want to see. I wish I were smarter and had more experience in these matters but I don't. Then I freak out over their love for recreational sports such as softball on Sunday afternoons which now, suddenly, no longer fits the image of the person I wanted to see. I was taught you don't play softball on afternoons, especially Sunday afternoons. You just don't do that. I become a hypocritical idiot (I like to play flag football everyday and for some, that is just way too much flag football) and claimed the moral high ground. I tried preaching that one just doesn't play softball on Sunday afternoons. I tried to use every tactic I know to convince them that this is wrong, dangerous. But I failed. Softball was going to be played on Sunday afternoons, whether I liked it or not. For two weeks I spent searching for answers as to why it was so important to play softball on Sunday afternoons via the written word of others who liked to team up and play a little slow pitch under the sun during the summer. I didn't find my answer, at least not the real answer I was looking for. And then one evening, recently it occurred to me that I did rush to judgment and what I really wanted to know was why it was so important to play softball on Sunday afternoons. I just want to understand. I want to understand the desire to play softball on Sunday afternoon. That's all. I care, that's why I want to understand.
Right now I am waiting to hear back from an old acquaintance and if she can find time in her life to help me set some goals such as deadlines for writing. It will be interesting and very exciting to hear from her response. I am on the fence if I am going to be jumping ship and heading off to a new employer. I know I will be moving in nine months time and don't feel the need to waste anyone's time in the process. If I were sticking around longer, then yeah, perhaps I would make that great big leap and jump into the dark blue waters that are only too willing to rush into my lungs and pull me under forever. I still have no idea where I am going to moving to either. The thought of Europe came into my mind for the first time today. It would b be bold and totally different that's for sure and would come as quite the surprise to many. I'll ponder my options a little longer before I make my decision.
I'm going to let my beard take over my entire face. I think that would be fun. :-)
Right now I am attempting to focus on settling down and writing the things that have been living in my head for the last three years. I mean I finally dug my notes out of the box I put them in when I moved and have yet to re-read them, although once I glance over them everything will comeback to me. I don't even know if I need to... I know the story, I lived it.
I had a dream this morning that end of the world was slowly taking place. I told people that I had a dream about World War Three but now that I think about it, that's not accurate. The dream was a place, perhaps a place I once lived or will live in and I remember seeing loved ones or their ghosts at least and I remember this feeling, this sad feeling that I wanted to reach out and communicate with those ghosts that I could not see. I wanted to tell them something, something that I would want to say, but maybe my words would only be a waste of time for them, a hassle almost. No matter how hard I tried, nothing worked to reach them. I know who I wanted to talk to, I wanted to say... something, but what in the hell am I going to say? Time wasn't on my side I guess. To much had changed in too soon of a time and all I wanted to do is reach out to them and hug them, tell them.... But the opportunity was gone. It was only a dream but lately I've been thinking I had an opportunity and now it is gone and I have to wonder if that opportunity will ever re-surface again, before the bombs go off and the voices are lost forever....
Why do I find it so hard to communicate with people??? I tell them my life is an open book and that they can ask me anything but I find conversation in my life to be scarce. If this person happens to be a woman, I am this clue less man wanting to ask the right questions, hoping to engage this person to open themselves up to me and in the process I am usually building the biggest blinders one can imagine and am left falling for the person that I want to see. I wish I were smarter and had more experience in these matters but I don't. Then I freak out over their love for recreational sports such as softball on Sunday afternoons which now, suddenly, no longer fits the image of the person I wanted to see. I was taught you don't play softball on afternoons, especially Sunday afternoons. You just don't do that. I become a hypocritical idiot (I like to play flag football everyday and for some, that is just way too much flag football) and claimed the moral high ground. I tried preaching that one just doesn't play softball on Sunday afternoons. I tried to use every tactic I know to convince them that this is wrong, dangerous. But I failed. Softball was going to be played on Sunday afternoons, whether I liked it or not. For two weeks I spent searching for answers as to why it was so important to play softball on Sunday afternoons via the written word of others who liked to team up and play a little slow pitch under the sun during the summer. I didn't find my answer, at least not the real answer I was looking for. And then one evening, recently it occurred to me that I did rush to judgment and what I really wanted to know was why it was so important to play softball on Sunday afternoons. I just want to understand. I want to understand the desire to play softball on Sunday afternoon. That's all. I care, that's why I want to understand.
Right now I am waiting to hear back from an old acquaintance and if she can find time in her life to help me set some goals such as deadlines for writing. It will be interesting and very exciting to hear from her response. I am on the fence if I am going to be jumping ship and heading off to a new employer. I know I will be moving in nine months time and don't feel the need to waste anyone's time in the process. If I were sticking around longer, then yeah, perhaps I would make that great big leap and jump into the dark blue waters that are only too willing to rush into my lungs and pull me under forever. I still have no idea where I am going to moving to either. The thought of Europe came into my mind for the first time today. It would b be bold and totally different that's for sure and would come as quite the surprise to many. I'll ponder my options a little longer before I make my decision.
I'm going to let my beard take over my entire face. I think that would be fun. :-)
posted by Ray @ 7:52 PM
1 comments
