Pulling a Trick – Entry Thirty Four

I have decided to switch the format, at least for today.
I am not here to talk about tricks of the trade or secrets or anything of the sort. No, I think now is a good time for revelation and to openly share my sentients from the heart.

I am a fan of this world. I am a fan of life. However, there are times when life is either lifeless or tough or too much to consider.
There are times when faith is tested and our endurance is on trial. Our hope and faith are tough to maintain.
Yet, somehow, there is still light.
There is still the sunrise. There will always be the case of moonlight, which comes through my curtains after midnight and turns my room into a shade of electric blue.

This entry will be a stream of consciousness.
This is a confession of sorts, or a purge, or as a means to prevent the swirling thoughts in our head that lead to the cyclone or the vortex, which is the water that spirals down the drain.
This is an answer to the so-called “Stinking-Thinking!”
This is me, grabbing on for dear life, or looking to defy the suction of emotional quicksand by holding gravity accountable, and reaching for a branch, to keep me from sinking down or from drowning and being flushed away.

Please do not misread or read to deeply. Instead, I will ask you to identify and to relate or feel in whichever way you find possible.

I offer this to absolve me from self, or to remove the roots of doubt which are historic and run deep. However if we do nothing, then nothing happens.
If we do not face our traumas, then our traumas remain strong. They grow stronger because they run unopposed and, as a result, we go weaker by never allowing us the right to dare or to face the narrative, and fight back against the bullies from within.

Therefore, I choose to use this entry to expose the lies, the truth, the fear, and the hope, the right, and the reason why despite the troubles or the crooked journey, I am still here.
Weak, at times.
Stronger, at other times.
But I am here, nonetheless
always ~

Are you ready?
Well, neither am I,
but here I go anyway.

You are the one beyond any other.
You are the one who inspires,
and regardless of what I say
or how I act,
you are the one who allows light
to seep through cracks
that burdens the everyday spirit
that root like weeds
in the crevice of darkness.

You are the universal oasis
in the barren heart
of a boyhood man
trying to improve
and to outrun
or outgrow
his former self.

You are the one, the hope,
the honest version of me,
or perhaps I should say
that you are my way,
and you are the salvation of someone
say, like me
and the emptiness
of an unfulfilled life,
untouched, but not untested,
and therefore, I see you
as an answer to unsolvable problems
and a response to questions
which have always gone
unanswered.

You are the light, yet
you are the sum of all my fears,
and my love, my heart and my worries.

You are the record of my past,
the holder of my secrets
and the knower of my sins.
You are the wonder I have
when I think about the world
as it turns around the sun,
and equally, you are the dawn
and my twilight,
and the moon,
which beams through my windows.
and forms shadows on the wall.

Yes. You are the one.

You are the one who defines me
and the one who moves me.
You are the one who pushes me
and causes me to look
beyond the confusion of sad indifference.
You keep me going.
Yes, you do.

You are my source
and my fear,
and a dream, alive and well.

You are the one
who leads me to stand and walk
when I am too weak
to otherwise stand or walk
at all.

This is you.
You are all of this and more.

And I?
I am the one.
I am the sum of my assumptions
and the one who looks, who seeks,
or the one who dreams and aspires,
yet, I have not dared enough
not tried, or touched, or reached or believed.

I have not dared nor withstood,
nor attempted or pursued
because I am the one
who understands fear, all too well,
and therefore,
as for my deepest fear,
it is to find that, above all,
life is just a mirage
and love is only an illusion,
or a fantasy
and thus, I am nothing
because how could I be anything
without you?

And if this is so, I am the one defied
and poor or destitute
yet,
I am still devout enough to believe.
Yes, I am crazy.
I am crazy enough to fall down
and believe that somehow
I can find my way back out from the hole
and reach you.

I am still and will always be
the one who is drawn in,
enchanted, of course, like brave Ulysses,
also known as Odysseus,
also known as the one
who was drawn in
by the song from the sirens,
tempted and teased,
or perhaps even taunted;
and yes,
I am the one.

I am hopelessly hopeful
and the one who believes
or the one who remains with faith,
even in faithless times.

Yes.
I am that one.

I am that one over there.
Do you see?
A boy at heart,
still afraid of the dark,
afraid of the unknown monsters
under the bed
and afraid of the unknown tragedies,
assumed by the assumptions
which come to me from a vision
that has been disturbed
by stains and taunted by stigmas,
lies, and not to mention
the I am the amount or the total
added together from lessons I learned
by inappropriate teachers.

Yes. I am this too.

You are the keeper of my truths.
You are the builder, and the creator,
and combination of all my ambition,
admiration, and the holder of all
that I hold dear
or keep close to my heart.

This means
you are the one.

You are the one
who has been sewn into my life
threading the needle
with the fingers of destiny
and woven by the hands
of fate.

This is you.

I am the one, however.
Faulted. Flawed.
Imperfect,
and by nature,
I am the child and the sum
of trauma, and like me or not
love me, or let me go;
I am the one who still hopes
and still looks, listens,
and waits.

I have more to say.
I have more to learn
and more to share.

I have more to give
and more to see.
I have more to lose
and, at the same time,
I have nothing to lose
at all,
except for time, of course,
which we lose anyway.
We lose minutes, seconds, hours and days,
especially when we let another second tick
without acknowledging the truth
or doing anything about it.

And I know what the truth is
(do you?)

Blessed father,
please look down on me,
simple, a sinner,
a man of mistakes,
and with all my humility,
I am a man who still hopes,
and who believes.
Although I am unworthy
of all your graces,
I am the one who still believes
or has faith,
even in faithless times
when doubt leaves a mark
and fate takes a turn.

Watch over me, please.
A man
A boy
A coward
and a soldier
all in one.

This is me.