There is no point in denying the truth. There’s no reason to deny the inevitable and there is no reason to quit or surrender, at least not now.
I agree when you say life can be hard. I agree when I hear people say that life can be unfair.
And I agree when people shake their heads and maybe they spit or curse, and I understand the feelings that come with loss, or the loss you find when you work so hard for something to happen, but in the end, the outcome was not what we hoped for.
I understand that the times are strange. Hell, I’m strange too. I’m strange enough to believe that somehow, I can overcome this place, or that I can make it, and somehow, I believe that regardless of what’s happened, I’m still going to find a way to pull off my trick.
(Or die trying.)
We are living in strange times and yes, we live in a strange place. We live with strange people and the more we go and the more we do, the more we’re going to see that strange things happen all the time.
Don’t believe me?
Look around.
There are people everywhere.
There’s lots to see.
And there’s more to come.
I can say that I am somewhere here in this maze I call my life. I am both lost and found, and there are times when I am confused and times when I am amazed.
I can say that this world is a truly beautiful place — even when the ugliest things are more apparent to me, or when I am hurt or when someone “did me wrong,” as they say, or even when people turn ugly, or when times are hard, or when we find that nothing is right and nothing is redeeming, and when we encounter the days when our heart is heavy or broken, and even when nothing is working in our favor—yes, the world is still a beautiful place.
Crazy. Wild.
Predictable, at times, and unpredictable on other occasions.
But there is passion in this world. There are hidden movements and tiny sparks that somehow trigger the mind and light our way.
I have no special insight. I have nothing magical to say and I have not come here with any special secret to answer the questions that we have. I’m just a fellow searcher on the same road as you are. Maybe my road is different and we are here at an intersection and, unfortunately, this is where we split.
I am nothing different.
I am no more than anything than you or anyone else. I have no more right to claim anything over anyone else who is down here in this world. I have to wait in line too.
I have to keep my balance from turning into the red.
I have to pay my bills and keep from debt.
But in all fairness, I know what I owe and I am aware of the interest which is building like the meter in a N.Y.C. taxi with a dishonest driver.
(Avoid them at all costs.)
I am hopeful and doubtful and suspenseful. At the same time, I am aware and cognizant that if I am to be better, then I have to be better.
If it is up to me—then it is up to me.
If it is up to me, then it has to be up to me to move, or grow, or to dance when I can, to eat, to drink, to rest and sleep, and if it is up to me, then I have to make sure to find the time to celebrate when I can.
I can’t lose sight of the simple things or the simple joys because it is far too easy to give in or lose myself to the critics (who have never dared to create) and it is far too simple to let myself fall into the abyss of doubt or criticism that comes from my enemy’s whisper (behind my back).
I cannot allow the weight of sorrow or the heavy depths of sad or depressive ideas to outweigh my best potential.
I am, of course, here in this world and fighting through the cases of Me vs Me, or I vs I.
Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose and sometimes I find myself in a rut, or somehow decaying and sinking down, slowly, and finding myself in the swamps of emotional quicksand.
There are days which I swear I can’t get through this. And there are days when I want to unzip my body, as if to step from this crazy suit. Do you understand?
The suit is also known as my body — and I swear, I want to unzip myself and step away.
I want to step out of this whole thing — or this whole process and surrender the fight. Honestly, there are times when I am tired of the bullshit.
I’m tired of the false hopes or the bullshit lies, which I hoped were true. Meanwhile, deep down, I knew what the lies were — I knew all about them.
But the fantasy was so nice that I would rather dance with the lies than swing with the truth. I was afraid to lose or become part of some unknown fear which is unstable, of course, because the future is too unknown, and our mind is lost in the concept of “what if?” and so, I can see how I’ve settled when asking myself, “what if I never get this chance again?”
What if this is the best I can do?
What if I refuse to settle for less and find out that no matter how hard I try, no matter what, I will never have more or be more than this, which is just me?
I have settled in both regards, which is intentionally and unintentionally, but deep down, I am not so unknown, and I am not stupid by any means.
I was hoping that I could pull a trick and that I could get away with a long shot.
But I knew . . .
Yes, I knew things can fall apart.
Things are bound to fall apart, especially when they are predicated on a lie.
So, who am I now?
Afraid? Yes, of course.
Doubtful? All the time.
Worried?
Yes.
I’m worried.
I am definitely worried.
I’m worried that the windows of opportunity will close and that my time will run out and that everything I have wished for and hoped for will be gone and vanished, or dead, like the ash of a leaf that fell from the branch and died in the flames of an autumn fire.
So, in the end, I am afraid that I will be nothing but some forgotten memory, like an old item on a shelf and locked in storage, dusty and forgotten and that, at best, I will only be remembered at times when I am accidentally uncovered enough to have someone say, “oh yeah, Ben Kimmel. I forgot all about that guy.”
But . . .
I am not here to be memorable or forgettable.
Instead, I am here to prove to myself that I can stand up. I am here to see things that no one else regards, like, say, the quiet hiss of raindrops. I love the sound which happens when the rains fall from the sky and lands on the roof of my apartment.
I love the gray sky and the wet streets, which gives us the right to step back and enjoy the quiet — at least for a minute. I call this Mother Earth’s lullaby.
And it’s a powerful one at that.
I am not looking to right the wrongs between myself and my so-called enemies. I am not here to hush the feuds or to silence the alarms or soften the battles between me and anyone else.
I know that they say, “do the right things and the right things happen.”
However, it may be true that you need to lead a good life in order to have a good life.
But it is also true that good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people.
Life does not happen in regard to our care, or loving ways.
Sometimes, life happens and all you can do is stand tall, endure, and withstand the damages come what may.
I am here to say that life is going to happen. People will laugh and cry and people will hurt.
People will lie and pretend to love you and yes, when the time comes to follow through, they will come up with their excuses or they’ll feed you a line as to why they can’t be there for you.
I am here to say that there are countless events of ugly times and even beautiful people can be ugly — as in real ugly.
But yes, the world is a beautiful place.
The life we have is more than we understand and we often get more than we bargained for.
We find ourselves at the crossroads or at an impasse and we can be lost or angry, hurt, and we can otherwise be stuck or locked in a life that does not belong to us.
We can be hit by our accusers. We can be condemned by the judges.
We can take the beatings and take the falls.
We can eat the pain and we can think or believe that this is all too much, that we cannot get up again, that we ruined everything, or that despite our hearts and our best efforts, we can allow ourselves to suffer or submit to the unwanted outcomes. Or . . .
We can look around.
We can take notice of the sky or the little things which are overlooked by the masses.
There is beauty out there. All over.
We can notice a cardinal or a butterfly, which came out of nowhere. If we choose, we can allow ourselves to believe in the spiritual message, even if it sounds too childish to believe. If we do, we can allow the signs or the little views we see, and then we can look for the beauty, and let this be our guide.
We can look into finding a way to recover from our sadness. We can lick our wounds and heal, and while nothing promises that the battle is over — at least we can rest enough, for the moment, to be refreshed. If for no other reason, maybe we can find something beautiful which opens our eyes enough to say, “yes, I have something worth fighting for.”
Come to think of it –
I face rejection every day.
I have my bouts.
I have my resentments.
I have my feelings of shame or blame, fault, guilt, and regret.
I often wish that I was different.
But I’m not.
Then again, I wouldn’t be me
(if I was different).
There has to be something beautiful about me,
regardless of what my enemies say.
Besides, who cares what they say.
Unless my enemy is within.
Know what I mean?
The Written Addiction 