Monday, June 18, 2012

Life in the Second from the Last Lane

I've reached a point in my life that I never expected to. Girlfriend, job, college-graduated, not dead, writing every day, and generally making headway against all the skeletons demonizing my closet. Nonetheless... I'm still haunted by them, still confused and uncertain about the course I've set. Still afraid I've chosen the wrong path.

At times I wonder if I should just say "fuck it" and drop everything -- move to some far away country and start anew. Burn the bridges. Sever the ties that bind and do something else that I really love. But I know this is a fleeting feeling, a symptomatic expression of having lived a life spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don't know how to be properly happy. I'm always prepared for shit to happen, for life to suck, for something else to pile onto me.

Death, false accusations, betrayal, lost friendships, debt, stress, responsibility, and more near death experiences. I never mentioned that during my training for my new job, back in February, I nearly fell to my death in an elevator. The cables just lost their tautness and the slack sent the elevator careening down in ever-increasing stages. I managed to get the emergency stop button to work, pry open the doors, and clamber out.

It's stuff like that which scares me, but not as much as stuff like the run-up to marriage and fatherhood. Yeap... The Girlfriend and I have finished that conversation. Made our plans for the future, but lawd knows I'm more worried about turning out like my Father than I am about whether she'll still love me with all my eccentricities and issues 30 years from now.

Guess I'm more afraid of growing up than of death. Go figure.

Maybe Peter Pan had the right idea, living in Never Never Land...

Anyways. The betrayal of roommates and friends was tough to survive as well. Had to play it real cool in order to avoid worse drama. Now I've even lost my connection to my closest friends back home, all because we grew apart.

Maybe that's why I'm afraid of growing up, because it changes things so much that I might as well have lost them.

I don't know who still reads these text-blocks anymore except for trolls and randos. Seems strange to just fling such hugely important chunks of my life into cyberspace, like pissing in the wind -- or putting a note-filled bottle to sea in a storm.

I feel these days, so much more strongly than I have before, even while less has happened recently than before. I feel so full of conflicting emotions, so full of angst, of desire, of bottled ideas just needing to pour forth from my soul like a raging volcano. No, not Vesuvius like. Just a timed released in the middle of nowhere for energy I keep contained within for fear it'll overwhelm me or my loved ones. I feel so strongly it makes people afraid. I feel so powerfully that others can hardly comprehend my humanity. I want to stand atop Twin Peaks and let loose a yell which reverberates off the entire curvature of the bay.

If only...

Until then, I'll close off this meandering with more pathetic false bravado.


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