In time, the autumn leaf will crumble to earth and create a new tomorrow, which may take centuries, and all that surrounds us will change into different versions of life.
In time, the landscapes will change
(and so will you)
In some ways, we are like an old piece of driftwood that floated across the ocean and washed upon shore.
The stories from our crazy days will fade and wash up someplace
(just like the driftwood)
Maybe we’ll wash up someplace too, like say, the rock piles at an inlet called Plum’s Gut near Montauk Point..
We all have our stories
We all have a past
We have our reasons we dressed up when we misbehaved
We all wore a mask at one point or another, whcih crumbled when we had nothing else to hide behind.
In time, we will look back at the way we were. We will reminisce and laugh because age has taught us the meaning of nonsense. We ‘ll shake our heads because the things we thought were so important will all be meaningless. And then we’ll laugh because, “Oh my God, we actually survived!”
A day will come, when you and I will be a memory —just like that piece of driftwood that washed upon shore. We’ll be a story, or if I can pull off my trick , we’ll be an entry in a novel and some young hipster will read about us and say, “Oh my God, I can’t believe they survived!”
I think the hardest part of change is letting go. It’s certainly the most frightening aspect. Letting go is a new thing for people like us. I mean, holding on, at least we know what to expect. But letting go brings out the fear of the unknown. Holding on to something unhealthy is easy when you understand the rules of engagement. Letting go, on the other hand —Hell, the rules are too unclear, which is why we tend to go back to our old behavior.
Letting go of who we were leads to several questions.
Who would I be, if I wasn’t who I thought I was?
Or better yet, who would I be if I wasn’t who I pretended to be?
Who would I be if I was scaled down to the core?
Who would I be after the mask came off and I had nothing left to hide behind?
Who would I be if I didn’t have the answers, or at least pretend to?
What’s funny is I never knew there was bravery in the ideas of “Surrender.”
I never knew about the victory in walking away or the justice in standing alone for the right reasons instead of living in crowds for the wrong ones.
I have this dream sometimes. I am sitting on a floating dock at a small round pond. I am surrounded by green grass. Behind the pond is a large pasture. The pasture is surrounded by an electric fence to keep the cattle in.
To my left, the red and white barn stands tall. To my right is the old farmhouse I lived in while facing the verge of manhood. Surrounding the farm are tree-lined mountains and a dirt road that leads into town.
There is no one with me in this dream. I am alone. I watch the still waters on top of the pond, which reflect the sky just before the sunset. The sky is the same color orange as it was during a teenage memory at a playground behind an elementary school known as Barnum Woods.
I see this dream as a reminder of where I come from. This is a reminder of what I’ve been through and what I have accomplished. This place I dream about is a place where I felt human in an otherwise inhumane time.
I got sober here . . .
This was the last place I saw The Old Man healthy. It was the first place I ever felt as though I had this thing we like to call “Family.”
Man . . .
Can’t believe I’m four weeks away from a goal I never thought I could achieve.
It’ll be 27 years April 1st
In time, the autumn leaf will crumble to earth and create a new tomorrow.
I think I like that idea
. . . .create a new tomorrow
and that’s exactly what I did