And Then What?

I can see why they tell me
the definition of insanity
is both the absence of reason
or to be a bit more simple or simpler
and direct or to the point,
I understand how insanity means
doing the same things
over and over again
and expecting different results.

And yes,
I do this.
I do this
all the time.

I see how
in the world where everything
is about identity or how we identify
and in the face of identity politics,
then I suppose it is safe to say
that I identify
as insane or crazy
and I am both of these things
for more reasons
than I care to count.

Am I crazy?
Or am I insane?
And if I am either
then is there a difference?

I assume there is.
In fact, I believe the world is crazy.
So am I. So are you.
And so are the fights and arguments
which we seem to have
and so are the insults or the low blows
which do nothing else
but get in the way
of our happiness.

Nothing is more pointless,
yet we fight anyway,
and we fight with the people
we love the most,
which is crazy to me.
This is crazy, all in itself
because why do we fight
with the people
who we love the most
and yet
we push them away
as if we showed them
that we can love them the least . . .
and if this happens
why are we mean to our loved ones?

Or why are they mean to us?

I wonder . . .

I know that if my life is a song
then I know that my song
is still unsung and unfinished
and I am working hard
to create a better lyric
so that I, above all,
can have a better ending.

Just know
that I always want to know
how you are
where you are
if you are okay
and yes,
I want to know how your day is going
and if work is okay.

I know that my love
is a song
and that I have been singing
this for decades
and yet,
I know that I forget the words,
sometimes
or maybe I lose my rhythm
and my faith,
or perhaps I lose the beat,
and fears make me
sing out of tune.
But still at least I am here
and still, at least
I sing no matter what because
what else can I do?

Quit?
Isn’t that the same thing
as dying alive, one day at a time?

I sing my song
and tell my stories to an infinite sky.
I spill my thoughts here, each day
and I do this with hopes that somehow,
you will hear me and say,
yes. Me too.

I keep my truth a secret
and close to the vest, so-to-speak
and I stay to myself
which is something I do now more than ever.

This has become more of a strategy
than my original ideas
of survival techniques.

I can survive
just fine.
I have decided though.
I want to live, love, laugh
and learn.
Anything else
is just existing
and if you ask me
I have existed long enough.
So, now,
it’s time to live.

I stand on shorelines
or look to find myself
high above the street level
and take to the skyline
of my City.

I think out loud now
while I sit here with you
and tell on myself
to keep me from being as sick
as my secrets
and yes, I realize
that I am crazy just the same.

I am sick
because I am sick and tired
of the rat race fantasies
or running through mazes
and jumping through hoops.

I am sick of the same things
or answering to a bell
that rings out
to signify the call to conformity
or moreover, I am tired of the rules
which are made for us to walk the line
and be like the rest of the sheep.

I am crazy.
Yes, I am
because I want more
than my share.

In fact,
I want the world
and the moon on a string
and suffice to say,
I want to find my place in the sun
and have my spot in the shade
reserved and set aside
just for me.

Am I crazy?
Am I insane?
And if I ask these questions,
then I have to ask myself,
do I do the same things
over and over again
and expect different results?

Of course I do . . .
I keep at this
because I sing the same song
up to the stars, like I have been doing
for years now, and somehow,
my hands always seemed
to come up short
or I miss my chance
or I take my shot
and miss my target.

I have shot down my own dreams
with the poisonous arrows
also known as
self-destruction.

I have let doubt
have far too much say
and so
I listened to those whispers
that sound louder than any scream.

Maybe I am insane.
Or maybe this needs to be the case.
maybe you have to be insane,
at least a little bit.
Maybe this is what it takes,
just to get by in this lifetime
if you know what I mean –

You have to be insane
because maybe the insanity
is what it takes us
to find the secret of endurance
or to realize
that we all have to endure ourselves
and keep trying. . .
Otherwise
we die a little each day
a slow
and agonizing death
or we die a death
which is otherwise known as
lifeless mediocrity.

Maybe it’s insane to hang in there
and defy the odds,
or to keep going, despite the whispers
or the insecurities we have.
Maybe it is insane of me
to believe that I can make it
and beat my limits
or move beyond where I have been
and be better than any of my predictions.

Maybe we all need to be crazy
(a little)
to find what it takes
or to dig deep,
as in deep down within our own soul
and find whatever it takes for us
to move forward,
so we can live
instead of die from the boredom.

I stand here before you.
Weak as ever
and yet
it takes strength to stand here
(still)
and sing my songs
with hopes
that at last, one day
you hear my voice
and finally,
we can “make a go of it”
and thus;
neither of us
will ever be “alone”
again.

Hear me, stars above
it is morning.
First life has yet to come
But I have to go.
I have work to do.
Or more importantly,
I have a song to sing
but please, and if you can
or if this is not too much trouble,
carry my notes to her
and let her know
my song is all I have.

And dig it . . .
I know my voice might not be the greatest
but for now,
I sing my song
for her to hear
and I will do this
always, as in ongoing
from now until the hour of my death—

Amen.