And I?
I am the one. I am me against me and again, I am the one who pushed and the one who stood, who fell, who resumed and regained myself, despite my losses, despite my falls and despite my shortcomings; I am still here and still living and breathing despite the threats or the dangers or the so-called powers that be.
The truth is no one can stop the world from turning. No one can stop fate. No one can avoid the bumps and bruises, and nobody can avoid the constant movement of the eventual and the inevitable.
This is life.
And to me?
Nobody cares, and even if someone cares, then what?
The end of the month still comes. Insurance needs to be paid.
Bills are due and the landlord doesn’t care if the world fell apart.
I can say that I have gone at it alone, so-to-speak. I have tried to fight back, and I have fought against myself. I’ve spit in the wind, I’ve battled the uphill battles, and I have lost to myself on more than one occasion.
My aim to normalize this, or us, and human life is often a voice that falls on deaf ears.
I mean, think about it.
No one wants to talk about their feelings or their problems.
Or maybe nobody wants to listen. Maybe that’s it.
Maybe this is all a game and aside from our perspective differences, or the way you see things as opposed to someone else or even me, at the base of this thing we call life, I am aware that no matter how hurt or outraged or in despair, the end of the month comes. The mortgage company does not have an emotional interest nor is their emotional investment in us or what we go through.
No, this is all business.
The end of the month comes, and the rent is due, bills need to be paid. Whether my ankles hurt, or if my knees are weak and even if the pain in my back is too much to handle, the hunter/gatherer still needs to hunt and gather.
Life is a series of pivotal moments. Life can change at any second.
Don’t believe me?
Just look around.
Life can go from one extreme to another.
We can find ourselves at the top of a wave, and just as quickly as we rose, we can fall just as fast.
There will be highs and lows. There will be moments of bliss and times when life is unfair and unkind.
There will be times when love is overflowing and there will be droughts and days when all is barren or dry.
And I?
I am the one who doubted too much. I am the one who underwent battles with myself and completed the anguish of self-fulfilled prophecies.
I am me, faults and all, wealthy and poor, strong, weak, and in the shape of my new future, I am aware that whether I am alone or with you, or whether I am to face the world with my hands tied behind my back, the end of the month is still the end of the month.
Grace period or not, whether I am to stand on my own, or fall and sink into the submissive regret, and volunteer for defeat, I can stand and regain my composure, or I can lick my wounds and nourish the pain.
And I?
I know pain, and so do you.
I know about loneliness. I know you do too.
I understand fear. I understand doubt.
I know all about the worries and unwanted thoughts about impending doom, or the constant belief that I (as I am) cannot arise or rise to the occasion and outlive, outshine, and overcome the weight or the power of my sad assumptions.
This is a trick.
This is a trap that the mind plays, which is a contradiction, I agree, because the mind is always moving and the brain is always calculating, always adding and subtracting, and always looking for an answer, and always looking to find accountability, or at minimum, we all want to know why.
Why do we argue?
Why do we fight with the ones we love the most?
Why do people hurt themselves?
Why does self-harm outweigh self-care?
Why do we allow rage to take center stage and lose our sanity to insane thinking?
I don’t want to be crazy anymore. I don’t want to waste away or waste another moment. I don’t want to wish for everything and work for nothing.
I don’t want to vanish to a thought or disappear in the sense that I lose my way.
I don’t want to miss anything or live a lie or lie to live.
I don’t want to give in to some bullshit maintenance that supports a life that is less desired, which is not to say that life does not need maintenance, nor does life go well without being maintained. However, if the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and if this saying is true; then let me work on the flavor and the obedience it takes to mind the details of my ingredients.
I do not work well without you.
I am alone, and otherwise, I am afraid. To add more, I am aware, perhaps now more than ever before that time is moving, the clock is ticking and the end of the month is always on its way. Yes, I am aware now, more than before; and yes, there is always “before,” as in before now, or as in before I found myself in the dirt, face down, or on my back, or on my ass, looking up, and thinking to myself, “How the fuck did I let this happen?”
Yes, hindsight is always perfect and no, I cannot resolved the unresolvable past nor change history.
I want to live.
I want to live more than before.
I want to walk out. I want to walk away and get beyond the gates of my disputes or be beyond the barriers of my sad limitations.
I want to let the soul go free, which means that I cannot cheat, nor can I accept the mottoes of depression and surrender to an unfortunate misperception of self.
Let me push my chair back and slide away. Let me stand up and I will respectfully push my chair back and alas, I want to walk away from the tables where I am not welcome or where I do not belong. Thus, let me make my way.
Let me be better than before.
Let me be bigger than my fears and stronger than my limitations.
Let me come out and be who I am instead of hiding my truths which are both evident and obvious.
I can’t hide anymore.
I don’t want to.
Besides, no matter how I feel or what goes on, the end of the month will be here soon. Rent is due and no matter what I think or how I feel, the hunter/gatherer still has to hunt and gather.
I don’t want a drug . . .
I want my life.
I want to find that great place which I call success. I want to name this place, and call this my own.
No matter where this is, the end of the month still comes, which means rent will be due, which means work, which means that I have built this life and more, I have to maintain this life—as in, my real life, and not some bullshit routine that I settled for.
No. I pushed myself away from the table. I had to move, either voluntarily, or by fate, or in the cases where I was excluded or uninvited, I have to see the blessings in the fact that I am here and there is a reason why.
There is a reason why you are here with me too.
Crazy or not, here I come.
It’s time to get up now.
The end of the month is upon us.
There’s work to be done and as per the landlord, rent is due.
The Written Addiction 