Everything is new now. Then again, everything is always new in the morning.
Nothing is the same.
Nothing will ever be the same again –
I remember thinking this. Throughout my life, I remember feeling this way at different points too and for different reasons. At one point, this was the way to think and feel. Keep it new. Keep it fresh. More accurately, keep it wild so life will never get old.
Only, I grew older – I suppose.
But not really. I’m still a kid at heart.
I know that at that at one point, I was on the verge of a new exploration. I was about to open my eyes to a new experience yet, I was too young to understand the depths of what I was doing.
But in fairness, I am a searcher. I have always been a searcher. I have always been looking for that life-changing thing; that item, that person or that source of ongoing inspiration that is beyond just euphoric.
However, my early travels were plagued by missteps and misspoken chaos. I was too young to understand the long-term effects of what happens when we experiment with certain dares or what happens to the mind and the body once drugs hit the system.
It was always the same for me –
I just wanted to be beautiful. However . . .
There’s always someone who is supposedly cool and somehow, this is the person who embodies the absolute bad-ass or tough guy.
There’s a lean to this. Did you know that?
There’s a way to stand. There’s a facial expression. There’s a way to hold a drink or a cigarette or take a drag and then you blow out the smoke.
Everything was a pose or a posture and, to me, everything was a coverup of one specific truth which is that I was scared.
I was petrified.
I was unsure of myself and unsure if I was able to fit or, if perhaps, maybe – there was something wrong or faulty about me.
And if so, then what?
I was out of my head.
I was out of my mind and I was out of my own world, which was false and untrue, yet I was trying so hard to fix my grin and play the role, as if I knew what I was doing.
And the girls . . . .
Yeah, I wanted them. But I was small. I was little and young looking. I remember daring the edges. I remember trying the little chippie, kiddy-school drugs like inhalants and weed. Yes, I was one of those kids who’d hang around by a liquor store and ask people if they’d buy me a bottle if I gave them some money.
I remember asking a girl to kiss me with vomit dangling from my chin. Only, here’s the trip – I really did like her.
Everyone else made fun of her – and me as well.
But I was out of my head . . .
I found my way to different levels of twilight-states and the euphoric horizons which were perfect, to some degree.
But still –
Nothing was ever enough.
I was “that kid” in the town.
Then again, I still don’t know if I’m sure what this means.
Either way –
I always wanted more.
I wanted to be that guy. I wanted to be “the one.”
I wanted to be regarded and wanted to be wanted and included.
I’m telling you all of my secrets here, which is uncomfortable by all means.
But what the hell? What’s a little more discomfort if it means I will find myself in your hands, with your soul, and with the sole purpose that I will (at last) be where I want to be. What’s the cost of a little more discomfort if it leads me to my destiny?
The truth is, I have always been this way.
Hopeful.
Romantic.
Guarded.
I’ve always wanted to be able to show up on the scene and lean-up against the wall with that cool approach that made me look desirable.
Can you see it?
It’s James Dean meets the current approach; it’s classic yet new and innovative.
This is part of my trick, but I stumble which means I’m working on it still.
I remember the first time I tried a mind-altering substances. I remember the different attempts with different methods and either way, the trip was the same.
I wanted to leave the atmosphere behind me. And once you know, you know.
Know what I mean?
You can’t forget a touch or a feeling that is so beyond measure.
At least I can’t.
I do remember my very first kiss. I do remember the very first time someone let me touch them in certain places for more than a few seconds.
I remember the time I was allowed to go forward with a mutual interest that went beyond a simple touch on the bra.
Nothing was ever the same again.
You know what else?
I know what loss is. I know what it means to have something one day and then the next, there’s nothing.
It’s all gone.
I know what happens after big fights and knockdown, drag-out wars that take place between two people.
I know what rejection is. I know what it means to be humiliated or exposed or to say to myself, no matter what, I will never let myself go through this again.
Yet here I am – opening this up to the universe and saying hey world, look at me. I’m weak as hell and I can’t even defend myself anymore.
But it’s good.
At the same time, I know what it’s like to hear a song and suddenly, life changed because there was music.
Or maybe there was a voice, which was not my own yet, everything I thought, felt or believed was encapsulated in a song with lyrics that screamed from the soul.
I know what it’s like to have my life change because of a voice or a word or a touch from a hand.
But yet, I know I go back and forth with this.
Just, please –
Try to follow me.
I remember sitting on the roof of my childhood home. I was a teen. I was lost and so unsure. I was confused to say the least yet I knew there was something else out there for me.
I knew that somehow, deep down, I believed there was a calling.
I believed there was something waiting for me. I just never knew what it was.
I remember switching crowds and moving in different circles with different friends. I remember going through the typical fiascos of young life.
And I remember wondering if there was a point to any of this –
Well, is there?
I was never comfortable being me. I never knew how to stand comfortably in a circle of people without wondering who the joke would be on.
Would I be the last to get the joke? Or worse, was it me?
Am I the joke?
Certain things happen in our lives that change the face of the way we live and the way we behave.
However, deep inside, I still have that child that’s fascinated by fireflies when they first arrive in early summertime.
I am still that kid who likes to play pretend and who wishes playtime could start over and maybe, if we all played fair, we could have some fun
(again).
I am undoubtedly real and without any other distractions; I am human.
I have a soul. I have a heart and I have a life which I am working on learning how to unfold it. This way, I can allow all points of me to meet like a tip to a spear; and then I can fly through the air with precision and hit my target, which is also called life, which is also called hope, which is also called me. Thus, this is also my fate and also my destiny and with of my heart, I don’t want anything to ever be the same again.
Holy shit . . .
I look back like a soldier who revisits a battlefield.
I look back like a traveler who returns from a long trip and all of the landscapes have changed. I look back as someone reborn after sleeping for so long and now that I’m awake, I know what it means to be young.
I look into a new realm of thinking and believing and as I turn back to see my old world, I realize that waste is wasteful; time is of the essence and whether I am alone or if am guided or if I am included, wanted, desired, or even if all of this is a sham or fake and next; I find out that once more, the joke was on me – then so be it.
Either way, I’ll take the shot.
I’ll dare it all.
I’ll give it the risk because I have to.
We can’t go back to the way we were.
You do know this, right?
Our eyes are open now.
The world is too clear for anyone to turn a blind eye or look away or pretend like everything’s fine.
God, I love the sunrise.
I love this morning ramble. I love that no matter what, no matter who or how and that no matter what comes next, at least I am not where I was yesterday because after yesterday, nothing will ever be the same again.
After this, and after the way I feel and the way it was to enter into a new negotiation for an upcoming life and an upcoming dream; nothing will ever go back to where it was.
Besides, there are too many creases and too many folds.
I have to open this up to something new.
There’s too many eye-opening opportunities which took place and will continue to take place.
I know now. I get it.
This is what needed to happen.
I know that while I have my special brand of imperfections and while I know that I am not “for everyone,” at least I know that I do belong – somewhere . . .
I know there’s love out there for me.
I know this deep down within my soul.
So, now that I feel what I feel to the furthest degree; and now that I am standing with my heart in my hand, honestly and purely, and now that I am where I am and lastly, now that I see what I see and know what I know; nothing will ever be the same again.
I have my heart to thank for this.
I have my love which, in fairness, is better than anyone else’s.
I say this because my love is the only thing that is perfect. It is full, open, growing, and furthermore, my love for you is more unstoppable each day, consecutively, ongoing – and infinitely.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
I was thinking about the certain times of year, like Christmas time or New Years, which have always had a special touch on my life.
I was thinking about whether or not the snow will fall on Christmas day and if so, where will I be to see it?
What will my life look like then?
I have undergone the start of a new existence. And yes, nothing will ever be the same again.
I have chosen to step forward and bare my soul.
Like it or not and comfortable or not; I have chosen to declare my love and I have chosen to move farther from where I was; so this way, I can be where I want to be.
Now that the door is open – you guessed it . . .
Nothing will ever be the same again
Forever
The Written Addiction 