Tuesday, December 7, 2010

A Semi-Recent Stream of Consciousness

I had a dream I was falling through the sky. My whole life surrounded by air, and each second passed with wind whipping by me fast as you please.

The various people I met stayed for a time, and then parachuted out before passing through more clouds colored like the ground. It reminded me of that one scene from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, where Detective Valiant asks Bugs & Daffy for a parachute of his own to save himself from the fall. Like him, all I had was a useless rubber tire discarded almost immediately.

Friends, family, lovers... So many faces whooshing to the sound of my own life rushing along.

It hurt infinitely worse than death to say goodbye. Each precious smile of their face disappearing in a haze of memory as new faces came to replace them, only to be replaced by still newer faces, and all the while I was still falling.

So cold. My body froze into a human missile plummeting towards... nothing. Just a directionless existence. I might as well have been motionless in space if not for the sound that would be absent in the void. Somehow though, the wall of noise was like its own kind of silence. Blocked out all thought except the painful memories.

I got so tired then. But couldn't sleep while moving that quickly. Bags under my eyes grew to epic proportions as the days bled into nights till I couldn't tell the difference between sunlight and stars. They all faded eventually anyways, leaving me with only the gray doldrums of this cascading existence.

It was lonely. So very lonely in the air. Nothing but nothing, and myself still falling...

Felt strange to wake up and hear the pain of my heart cry to the same melody of an old birdsong. And the pounding rhythm, beating me senseless with its insistence that I stop trying and give in to the sadness.

Except this part wasn't a dream. This was me really waking up. And then I couldn't cry, but lord knows I tried. Tears rolling down my cheeks like small leaks would've comforted me, because then I'd feel something other than despair deeper than the Marianas Trench. Instead my eyes were drier than deserts I visited in Southern California, but a bottom-lip curved down & out.

These days get so hard. The lonely nights envelop me in their hopeless embrace. I try to hide by existence during dawn or twilight. In-between I feel more alive than I do in either absolute. I feel inconspicuous enough to make a downcast smile.

But they fade all too fast with the next moment of pure emotion coursing through my veins like adrenaline, succumbing to the numbing effect. My own body has made me an addict to manic bi-polarism.

And yet I love like I've never been so heartbroken.

None of this is normal you'd tell me, and maybe I was never meant to be normal. None of this is healthy, and maybe my scars run deeper than healing can touch. None of this is good, but maybe I wasn't meant for goodness. At this point I always fall back on survival.

Forgotten and forgiven are the pains caused by truths revealed -- where you'd go for love, why that's unselfish, what I say that's wrong, how the sentences strung together make pins to this relationship's pin-cushion. My own memories betrayed me once, and I refuse to let them do so again.

This is all so depressing, but I can't stop writing. My fingers touch to the keyboard is like the infinitesimal space connecting one subatomic particle to the next. Close and yet so far. The space between atoms could contain whole libraries full of my vocabulary.

The next day passes, and the next day passes, and on and on until blurs turn to shapes, black like shadows escaped from behind the figures they project from. My oh my, this is quite nonsensical... but then again, I adore this informative insanity called writing.

Just know that I love you and myself and there's no contradiction in there besides the obvious.


2 footnotes:

Beth/Edgar said...

i love the drawing above,
its a really good drawing :)

Zek J Evets said...


Thanks! I wish I had done it ; )