I can remember the smell in the room. I remember the family. I remember their faces. I can remember the emptiness and the cold silence. The Mother was shaken.
She had a look of disbelief on her face. Shocked, as if she could not believe something like this happened in her house, right under her nose, without even knowing.
I can remember the deployment call, which was not unlike any other deployment call. The information is brief and simple. I am told the client’s name, if there is one. I am told which emergency room the client is in and whatever details are given about the overdose.
Yearly Archives: 2021
Abstract Prose: The Different Concepts Between “Pain” and “When”
When the numbers stop counting and there is nothing else in your mind to add or subtract; when there is only the acceptance that this is life; and whether in battle or peace, we realize that life is life; then we understand that there is no more us or them. There are no more quarrels or reasons to go back and forth. The sum of it all is simple to say the least. I am me. You are you. They are they. We are we and us is us.
We can set aside our pronoun troubles for a moment. We can stop pointing fingers. The pot can call the kettle black or not. Either way, none of this matters.
(Does it?)
When the complications of our interpersonal math cease to exist; when the need to please, to interact, or counteract the neighboring bodies around us subsides and all else is clear; when we see clearly then we can understand that everything else is nothing more than a distraction. This is the dilemma.
A Note From the Artist
I think about these late-in-life success stories. I think about people that have been grinding and grinding their entire lives, knocking on doors, and having them slammed shut in their face. I think about the people that lived this way for decades before they found success. I think about writers that put out manuscript after manuscript only to realize that nobody cares. Every idea you have has already been had by someone else. And somewhere is a room with boxes on shelves that contain every thought or idea, from music to scripts, to paintings and sculptures. There are patents in there which will never see sunlight. There is genius in these rooms but they will never be unearthed or read. I think about the artists and the creators. And all they can do is move on. Write another one, build something else, keep pluggin or not, but either way; life is life and this is the way it is. If life was easy, everybody would be a pro, right?
Continue readingWith Hopes to See the Fireflies
I suppose now is the best time to say this from the heart. Above anything else, I am a very real person. I have thoughts and ideas. I have dreams and desires. I have aches and pains, both emotionally, and sometimes physically. I have doubts, fears, worries and concerns. I have all the above that would come with living a normal, everyday crazy life.
I am real. I have flesh and bone. I have the vital organs that keep me alive. I have a thought process that has been growing since birth. I learn as I go. I think and I feel. I find myself in both good times and bad.
I am like you.
In fact, I am exactly like you or anyone else in the world.
My Friend Mike The Rocket Once Said . . .
No one knows what tomorrow brings. And no one knows the hour or the day. Nobody knows what will come and who will go. Nothing is ever guaranteed. And I know what we are supposed to say. I know what people tell us. I know all about the power of positive thinking. I understand visualization and the need to create a picture for ourselves; otherwise, if you can’t see what you want then how can you get it?
I understand the laws of nature. I understand what happens when we step out of line and the unfortunate lessons which follow. I also know how the lessons become increasingly worse when we don’t learn the first time.
The Waste of War Stories
There is no reason to brag about where we’ve been. There’s no reason for us to compare scars or place honor where honor doesn’t belong. Sometimes we place honor where honor does not deserve to be placed. And yet, I notice that we still do it. I know people that have been to jail, countless times, and they carry their paperwork as if this validates them. They show their collars and the leash that kept them stuck. I have met with people that swear they’ll never go back to their old lifestyle. And yet, sometimes months, weeks, days and in some cases even hours later, they found themselves right back at it.
Continue readingHard Truths
I understand this will not be suitable for everyone. Then again, this is not written for everyone. This is not even written for anyone in particular. Perhaps this is just for me or not at all. Either way, there are some that can attest to this. There are some who relate and some who understand. There are some who think or have felt this way too; and to them, this is something that makes sense.
There are different marks of recovery. There are different reasons why people at some point, rise up and walk away from their former self. And, quite honestly, in the beginning is a moment of awareness. In the beginning are the countless thoughts and fears that seem unrelenting.
Continue readingA Little from the Abstract: Introspectively
There is a street that runs up a hill not too far from my house. I like it up there. I like the way the street bends and winds around. I like how it moves through the upstate land and country homes. I like that I can breathe here. I’m out of the City. I’m away from the elements, so to speak. I’m out of the current climate and away from the political arguments and the detrimental rhetoric. I’m here on my own with my chest to the wind and the breeze through my hair, which I have decided to grow out again for just such an occasion.
I love these walks. I love each step I take because each step tells me that I’m moving closer to something. And I might not know what this means. I might not know where I am or where I’m going but at least I know that I’m not standing still.
Bias: Fear and Pain
There is a great phenomenon that takes place when we simplify our life and break down all the complications and intimidations which stand in our way. Suddenly, the elephant in the room isn’t around or so uncomfortable anymore. The big bad wolf isn’t so big or bad. And we see things clearer now.
There is an amazing aftermath that takes place after we deactivate the distractions that grow in our mind, like weeds that suffocate the roots of our dreams, goals, plans and restrict the strategies we’d used to achieve them.
Vision: In Two Parts
1)
There is this great big world out there. There are places that I have seen in my dreams and places that I keep in my memory. I have these mental pictures which I keep like tiny artifacts that make up my history. I have dreams sometimes. I have old connections that reappear like a visit from the spirits of my past. And I call this love. I call this something. Maybe I call this a visit. Or maybe this is my mind connecting to an old need. Maybe this is me connecting to an old recollection that links me back to a sentiment, which I miss wholeheartedly.
Let me ask you, what do you remember from your childhood?
The Written Addiction 