188)
And so,
I, being of sound mind and memory,
do hereby make,
publish and declare this
to be my will and going further,
I also make, publish
and declare this
to act as a testimony
of my life, my past,
my mistakes
and without regard
for the uncertainty
of my future and going forward,
I do hereby make, publish
and declare this to echo
and sound out
as a means
to explain the world behind me.
So that it stays there.
And so,
I, being of sound mind and memory
do hereby acknowledge
the imperfections of my life
as well as attest to the guilt
and the wrongs of my sins
and with full transparency,
by no means do I leave out
my selfish regard or inconsiderate decisions;
however, and to further this testament,
effective immediately, I resign my station
and position, as anyone other than me.
And
since this will be my last entry in this journal,
I recognize my part and my role
and the inaccuracies of the positions
which I played either wrongly
or to a fault.
Forgive me, please.
I am only a man
or a sinner, or a child,
a coward, or someone
who is challenged by an unfair chemistry
which seems to be enough
to be held against me
(at least, by some people).
189)
I have been writing “goodbye”
letters for years now.
Some of the letters were to people
and some of them were to places
or things.
Some of the letters were to myself
or to the parts of me
that I wanted to get away from
or be rid of, and so,
as a means to make them
“go away,” or to “stop the bleeding”
so-to-speak
I have acted hastily, which is not uncommon,
yet, I have often acted in ways
or did or said things
as a response to my emotional content
which led me to say or do something
unfortunate
or
uncalled for.
Hence, to keep me
from allowing the wakes from my aftermath
to be worse,
I wrote letters
to the various items of my life
with hopes that I could free myself
from the unwanted emotions,
such as the pain, the hurt, the sadness,
or my regrets, the anger, resentment,
or the memories that refused to let go of me.
I have written letters
to people in my life
who I could not (or did not)
have the chance to say goodbye to.
I have stacks and piles of goodbye letters
to The Old Man and to Mom
Equally, I have written letters
to those who had an impact on my life
and with each one,
I wrote them with all of the emotions above,
with rage, regret, shame, sadness,
resentment, humiliation,
and looking inward,
I have written these letters with a full
and total awareness of my own wrongs,
to which, and without missing a name,
I took my own inventory
and admitted to my mistakes, misgivings,
and rather than end the letters with hate or blame
or flavor them with the self-destructive
sentiments that turn inward
and destroy the soul,
I offered them (and this)
as a peaceful treaty that will pardon
our past to secure a better future.
Life cannot be lived well
with rage and contempt.
I know this
because I am living proof.
190)
And now,
I offer this ending to meet the clouds
or to stand where the bullets hit the sky,
and going forward,
I offer this fully and wholeheartedly
as a means to let go of the grips
of all the articles and items
which keep us sick
or keep us from breathing
or keep us fighting
and prevent us from being
where we should be
which is in a better place
than now.
I have never claimed to be
anyone else, nor have I ever claimed
to be better, worse, in-between,
nor is it safe for me
to declare that I am
above or below anyone else in this world.
I am not tough
nor do I claim to be a tough guy
which, at this point, I realize
that it is tough enough
to just be yourself.
(Ya know?)
I am me.
And this?
This is my way, my light
and my hope
and this is my journey
and my cross to bear
and, to me, this is the only measure I know
which I can use to free myself
or to free my soul
or open up
to the different possibilities
that yes, hopefully or maybe
I could have a slice of pie too.
I am aware of my faults and flaws,
because aside from my reflections
and my mistakes and not ignoring
my shortcomings, or the way I am
or how I see that insecurity
is the biggest emotional thief of all;
I have others who love to point out
how I am
or how I should be
or how I’m not good
or how I could be better.
There will always be a personal critic in life
and to them I say,
Go fuck yourself.
I have been at this for years now.
Am I getting better?
Some might say yes
Some might say no.
But aside from some victories
and accomplishments,
I can say that art and change
and growth
can be a long and lonesome road.
But
at least I’m still on it.
I’m still here.
I’m ending here –
and after this one
I’ll start the next one
no matter who comes with me
or goes the other way –
I can’t give up
and we can’t quit
before the miracle happens
even if it never happens,
we have to stand up before
we find ourselves
where the bullets hit the sky
and then we find out
it’s too late –
the time has run out
the sands in the hourglass
are gone
and so is my shot
to pull off my trick
with you
because despite what you think
I love you
I do
and as long as always is,
I promise
I always will.
The Written Addiction 