And Then What?

I started this journal
with the question that asks –
and then what?

The truth is
I don’t know what comes next
or what comes after this.
I don’t know if today
will be the day
or tonight will be the night.

I don’t know when or if
my life will fall into place
and let’s be clear,
I don’t know when my
so-called problems,
such as people, places, and things
will be a thing of the past.

Maybe now.
Maybe never.
Maybe the best is coming
sooner, rather than later.

And what now?
What happens after what took place
and where does this leave me?
Where do we go from here,
and what does all of this mean?

Or maybe, just maybe,
none of this means anything at all?
Maybe I am like the suggestion
I just heard on social media.
This came from a student who told
about a lesson from a Buddhist monk
and I was shaken, and therefore,
I spilled all that I was holding.

And if so,
maybe I should learn to let go
or to accept my losses.

Or more to the point,
the past means nothing other than
life is a series of lessons.
and that’s all.

So, then . . .
life is trying to teach me something —
Life is showing me
what it means to have something
and let this be precious.

However, if this is true
and as I recall,
teachers have a way
of making you stay after class.
Know what I mean?

Teachers have a way
of making you learn
and if you fail to learn,
life has a way of leaving you back.

Teachers have a way
to get their point across,
only I am too old for write-up slips
and too removed for
in-school-suspension
or notes sent home to my parents.

Besides, no one lives
at my old home anymore
and all my letters to my parents have come back
“return to sender.”

I have changed
and grown old, and sometimes
it’s like I am being sent
to the front of the class again
or punished.

Maybe I failed to listen
or maybe I was bored in class (again)
and perhaps, I failed to do my homework
and no, I didn’t study — but hey
today is test day.
Right?
In fact,
every day is test day
or rest assured, someone is always around
to offer a pop-quiz.

I swear this is like stuttering
in front of the class (again)
or worse,
this is like math class,
and to be honest,
I have NEVER been good at math.

I’ll say this though . . .
the one thing I know for sure
is if I fail, and if life is teaching me a lesson,
I have to realize that teachers
will always make you run the problems again
until you get the math right.

Safe to say,
yes, I made mistakes
and safe to say
that no, I failed to grasp the lessons
or learn the first time.

No, I had to learn the hard way —
as in me,
sitting in the corner (again)
with the so-called or proverbial,
“dunce cap” on,
ashamed that
“I don’t know,”
or that I failed to listen
or pay attention.

Safe to say
yes, I deserve my hours in detention
and sure, I can see why
I have been sent to the principal’s office
or why I found myself in trouble
(again).

And now . . .
what’s next?

The truth is
I don’t know.

I learned about another distant friend last night.
Loved by many
except, of course, himself that is.

Gone by his own hand
and somehow,
I am awake and alive
and facing the so-called chalkboard
at the front of the classroom.
Figuratively speaking.

By the way,
I had a dream
about my old elementary school last night.
I was in my fifth-grade classroom
(again).

The teacher was never very nice to me.
I used to hate his two-minute math drills.
I hated reading out-loud
in the classroom.
I hated stuttering
while the other kids laughed at me.

I still hate reading out loud because
I am afraid that I’ll sound
something like:

“Thuh-thuh-the
qui-qui-qui-quick
bruh-bruh-brown
fuh-fuh-fuh-fox
ju-ju-jumped over
the luh-luh-lazy dog.”

I have to tell you . . .
No one ever asks to be the stupid kid
or to be picked last
and no one wants “the one”
with problems or troubles.
No one wants to be
the odd one
or to be the one
who needs extra help.

Study now
or pay later,
I guess.

All of my gripes and complaints
and enemies and all — and somehow
I’m still here.

Maybe it’s time that I learn my lesson
and understand the math
of what it means to live.

Sleep well . . .
I hope the other side is kinder
than it will be
to the family you left behind.

But no,
this is not judgment.
And to be clear
I get it.

Still hurts though