The following thoughts come from scribbled down notes that were collected from random sheets of paper and even some from a brown paper bag – so I wouldn’t forget them when I came here to speak with you.
These are thoughts. That’s all.
Stream of consciousness, unfiltered and uncensored.
These are parts that I wanted to put together, like a puzzle – I suppose.
In fact, what I am about to expose are thoughts that spanned throughout an otherwise rough day or a sleepless night of reflection and soul-searching.
These thoughts which I connected from tiny blurbs are some of my views that came out from my heart and onto paper, almost like a vomitus spew, which is gross but to purge more than to be obscene, I realize it’s impossible to rest when my thoughts spin too quickly.
So, I had to find that special relief valve in my head – (so I can sleep).
I write this with intention.
Although this might appear to be scattered thinking, still, my hope is that you will find this entry as heartfelt and hopeful.
Please . . .
I am not here to drown you in a series of words. But otherwise, I’m only here to relay my thoughts so that I can keep myself clear – at least between us anyway.
With that being said – I have questions.
So?
Where have we gone?
What have we seen?
What have we lived through during our time together?
Or if at no other time together, what have we survived, or endured, learned or otherwise. At minimum, what have we experienced throughout this journal?
Anything?
I have opened up to you here.
As usual.
I have told you about my ideas of seeing the world.
Yes, I want to see it all.
Even if the world is only south of 116 and Park, then let me see it.
And, or of course, I refer to The Harlem days much differently now.
I say this now that Harlem itself appears much differently today than the way it was before we found it.
I still have a need to walk the garden in the middle of Harlem, Central Park, which was part of a real-life dream.
I walked this garden before.
I need to do this again.
I have so much to see and even more to learn, which is fine.
This allows me the motivation to have more of a thirst or a lust for life.
This allows me to dangle the prize before the nose of my spirit – so that I can smell the hope and follow the aromas of say, the way it smells at Christmas time.
You know?
This is when the street vendors sell nuts and pretzels on Lexington by Grand Central Station.
And the snow falls.
And the red bucket on a red tripod stands next to a person ringing a bell in a Salvation Army suit.
The time for good tidings grows near: The Holiday Season
And me –
Well, let’s see.
I have taken you with me around the world a thousand times over. Only to come back here, each morning, to where I sit with you, hopeful and frightened, true as can be, lovingly, humbly and certainly modest as ever.
We go everywhere here yet we go nowhere at all.
I am here though, quietly as ever, as if to share this moment with no one else because there is no one else
but us.
It is my life, which is here and it is equally my life, which is yet to come; as in, still unseen and unlived or at the moment, we are entering into a new beginning and a new chapter that unfolds as we live, untouched and new, or fresh – as in, just out of the box, like a brand new pair of sneakers when we were kids.
Remember?
Somehow, in some small way, we thought we could run faster or jump higher – all because of a new pair of shoes.
I want that feeling again.
(Don’t you?)
That’s what this is about –
That feeling, or those moments, or those tiny little sections of life which, at the time, seemed so small or random and meaningless.
Yet, we never thought we’d remember them the way we do now – until age set in and caused us to look back.
Or until life happened. Yes, maybe that’s it.
Life happened and allowed us the ability of hindsight which, of course, is perfect.
Hindsight is enough to have us look back and see that we knew the truth all along – it’s the lies that tripped us up.
This is what made us fall, not the truth.
And what’s the truth?
I can’t say I know the answer for anyone else.
I know mine though.
I told you about my fascination with Jonathan Larson. I told you about the emotion which was unlocked at the time when I saw the Off-Broadway play called RENT.
I told you about the feelings that rose to the top, to purge my impurities, and each time I passed the playhouse on 41st Street, I thought about the life of Mr. Larson who never lived long enough to see his opening night.
Imagine?
I have gone through the mill. I have been up and down. I have seen places that no one should see yet people see this all the time.
So, I am not special in that regard.
Nor am I so doomed either.
I have seen horrible views and sensational sights.
I have seen this all through my eyes – and no one else’s.
That means, of course, that all of this is subjective – including me, subjective, open, bleeding and pleading.
I am learning to live, once more, at the age of 51.
And good, I say.
So be it.
It is fine to say that I have seen what I have seen and lived as I have lived.
However, it is more to me to say that this is where I was and this is who I was.
But this is me now – working and counting or mounting and adding to my collection of journals.
Life can be different in the blink of an eye, or in just a second, – and counting or mounting, as if to say that life is actually ongoing or consecutively unfolding. As we unravel, if we look around and pay attention, we can learn as the process of life unfolds.
See?
I told you this was a ramble.
But sometimes – a good ramble is all it takes
(to feel better).
What have we done?
What’s happened to our world?
I don’t mean the world around us or the crumbling of nations or the bullshit politics?
I mean what’s happened to our world?
What have we lost? What have we gained?
What have we felt or learned or tried?
See?
That’s what I am trying to convey.
This is what I am trying to explain.
My time with you is both short and I also see our time together as infinite and ongoing,
This is if Fate, herself, always knew about us and even Destiny. Her too.
She understood about the splits and breakups or the sullen and sad aftermaths of lonesome moments.
And of course; let’s not forget about the downfalls of our so-called human nature.
Let’s not forget about the breakdowns of the soul when the moments of awareness arise, like the sun, shining light on a brand new day.
By the way . . .
I have picked up a fascination for candles – so I can light them.
Tiny batches of sunlight is what they are to me, swaying in little flames and dancing in the miniscule fraction of what the sun has come to do each day –
to warm the earth of its frosty expressions – which is otherwise too cold to the touch and too frigid for the heart.
I allow the tiny flames from the candlelight to flicker.
I watch them dance and yes, the small glow is enough to embody a “new” meaning to me.
I place the word “new” here because candles have meant different things to me – especially since my youth or since my stages of trouble and aggression. Yes, the symbolism of a candle has definitely changed since the obsessions I had for a chemical intervention which, in fairness, is what I used to euthanize the moments, one brain cell at a time.
But that was another lifetime ago.
I am only another searcher. I’m a traveler just like you or anyone else.
No different.
Or maybe I am different, which I am.
I am unique by the right of my soul.
I am a child. I am an old man.
I am longhaired and wild, just like I used to be.
I am equally quiet and aged and slower now, just waking up to the dawn or arising to the new meanings of a brand new life.
I have no intention of allowing this to go beneath the ground, so-to-speak.
I do not want to bury this like a heart that no longer beats.
I am not running away anymore.
In fact, I am not running at all.
I won’t run (unless I have to) because if the saying is true, that nice guys finish last – then the reason for this must also be true –
it’s because they learned that life is not a competition.
Yet, it is. And yet, it’s not.
Competition is fine and to compete or to play is beautiful.
No, really, This is wonderful.
To challenge oneself or to see if we can climb the hill or rise to the top and ring a bell –
I think this is brilliant.
But now, as I settle in, I realize there are things left undone which I cannot allow myself to submit or to be satisfied until, yes, I climb up high and ring the bell.
I want to say that I did these things.
I did the dance.
I sang the song.
And no, I might not have been where I was supposed to be at the time.
But wherever I was – I was supposed to be there.
I was supposed to see something.
I was supposed to learn and oftentimes we learn that we cannot force or coerce life.
We can’t make things happen or control what’s out of our reach.
More importantly, we can’t pretend to be someone we are not.
There is no more pretending.
There is only living.
And no.
I don’t suppose that I can make sense of half the things I have seen.
And yes, in time, explanations evolve and then, eureka!
Moments take place and we say, “Oh, I get it now.”
We can bitch and we can cry. We can fight or start a war.
We can seek revenge.
We can look for the last word, which some people call closure – but me, my closure is this.
I don’t want the last word.
I don’t need it. I don’t even need closure.
Give it to someone else
(now, that’s closure).
I don’t need resentments or a resentful heart.
All I need is the sunrise, which is about to come shortly. Soon I am about to be a witness to the brightness of hope that the new sun brings on a daily basis.
A candle – a tiny flicker is perhaps an infinitely small fraction of the sun.
But to me, the sun shines on a new day.
So, I’ll light the candles with hopes that even the smallest fractions will add up and mount and multiply to the promise of the sun.
AKA: a new day.
AKA: new life and a new hope which evolves, one day at a time.
I am almost at the end of this journal.
I don’t like them to go too long.
But that’s okay – no one else comes here but us anyway.
Right?
I like to keep my journals fresh and new with new hopes and new intentions.
My hope is to unlock a new purpose for myself.
I want to embark on a new moment in the sun – and as we approach a new year, I hope for this –
peace.
No more fights.
No more need for the last word or to prove a point.
Two paths can split. New things can happen.
Hold what was good and let go of what held us back –
It’ll be the New Year soon.
Wow – I think of the years that changed on the calendar when I was a kid.
2024 . . .
It’s coming and I’m still here.
So are you.
I think the item on today’s daily bucket list has to be this:
Make it count.
Make sure today is worth it.
Let go of what degrades your value.
Hold on to what builds your heart –
even if it stings (at first).
Just remember, sometimes it has to hurt before it heals.
And it will
Heal, I mean.
I promise . . .
The Written Addiction 