Come to think of it . . .
I think I’ll take a page out of your playbook.
And so . . .
Please, let me begin.
It was cold this morning. I suppose this is nothing more than a preface of what’s to come. And who knows what’s in store?
Another chapter in a lifelong book? Another moment of obscurity?
Morning’s are preparing for the precursor of a new season.
I see this as Mother Earth, allowing me a chance to foreshadow and see the fall, the autumn months and the colors of change, and then what?
The winter is up next. Right?
Next, we find ourselves in the grand hibernation of winter in the Northeast, which is where I am.
What else is there about the future, aside from the unknown?
What else is on the way, aside from the random and the unplanned?
No one knows what to expect.
We can hedge our bets all that we want, but rest assured, nothing is ever a sure thing.
I am someone with hopes and dreams and aspirations.
Some of them are realistic and others, well, they’re more like pipe dreams.
Then again, who am I to say what’s within my grasp? Who am I to judge the reality that I might go further than just someone who is along for the ride and taking another turn around the sun?
We are on the way to facing a new year. I know this.
And I am looking upwards at the nighttime sky and looking, or should I say hoping and wishing for a shooting star.
Please, let me find a way to get what I want . . .
It’s just a little peace.
That’s all.
If not, let me ask for a shooting star.
Perhaps I am hoping and wishing for a sign that my voice has been heard. Perhaps not today, but my wishes are on their way, and I just have to be patient, and who the hell has patience at a time like this?
To be clear, I am not one who has ever wished upon a star. I’ve never wished, wholeheartedly. Not even before I’ve blown out the candles on my birthday cake.
I can say that I have dropped coins in wishing wells. And I dropped several of them. I’ve dropped countless coins to tell you the truth. But I never really had a wish come true.
Or maybe . . .
Maybe I have. Maybe my wish is right here and right in front of me.
However, I know that previously, I was too unaware to recognize that there is was, my dream, and this was with me the whole time—yes, my dream, and all of this was right there in front of my face, but I was looking away or looking in disbelief and too sadly unsure of my own damned self realize that this is it; the window of opportunity.
Come to think of it—
I have spent the last several years in long conversations with people who had their life ahead of them yet, they wanted to end it all—or they wanted to die or, at least, so they told me.
However, and in all reality, the world is not always an accommodating place so, it’s not that we want to die as much as we want some kind of control.
We want to at least have a say or, at minimum, we just want the shit in our head to take a break—but there are no breaks.
Nothing lets up and there are no pauses to catch our breath. No, life keeps on moving, regardless of what we ask for.
Slow down. Speed up.
No time for requests, says the clock.
I’m just here to move.
That’s all I do, says the hands of time.
I have spoken with people who were dying and as much as they complained about their life, they never meant what they said. Not at all, and now that death was at hand, all they wanted to do was live.
Crazy, right?
I think about the irony.
I think about the saying, “be careful what you wish for . . . you just might get it.”
I think about the wishes I have and the wishes I wished I was brave enough to follow through with and all of the moments when opportunity was right there, or right in front of me, and I failed to reach out.
I understand the benefit of hindsight.
I understand that it’s easy to see the truth once the lies have disappeared.
Yes, there are times when life is tough.
There are times when life is impossible and, of course, no one escapes life with a pain free smile.
And yes, I do mean NO ONE!
I cannot wish enough or drop enough coins in the wishing well.
I can’t change what took place and I can’t predict the future.
It is close to a new time of year. And I find myself at the base of reflection, considering my options and the accidents which took place, and the recent oversights, or the times when I was mean or said the wrong thing.
Here it is—
hindsight coming to play Monday Morning Quarterback and tell me where I went wrong.
I can’t see tomorrow. I can’t feel the legs which ran away with my yesterday and, as for now, I am caught by a moment of awareness that screams, “you know what you did!”
I took a lot of chances.
I pulled too many tricks.
I took a few turns and yes, I fell, I lost myself, and circling back, I am here at this spot, where I find myself at the entryway to a new moment.
Now what?
I have been here before too; whereas, I can wish for a better life, or I can raise a glass (of something without alcohol in it, of course} and I can toast to a great year ahead.
I can ask the Gods above for a new life.
Or I can look around me and see the blessing which have been otherwise disguised, and with me this entire time.
I choose to change.
I choose to grow and to improve.
I choose to take the next step despite the odds against me, and yes, whether I am favored by the universe or if powers around me will be kind, or not, I am here to make my presence known.
I have wasted too much time and fought too many battles to lose another moment’s rest.
Therefore, affective immediately, I surrender myself to the things that I have no say with. Furthermore, I refuse the fights and wars and battles that are meaningless or hurtful.
I have fed into the various weapons of mass, self-destruction for way too long.
Insanity pulls me to try and pull of my tricks again.
But insanity tells me to do the same thing and expect different results.
Sounds to me like it’s time for a change.
This doesn’t mean I have to quit.
But this does mean I have to change my plans.
Know what I mean?
The Written Addiction 