All For More (Or less)

I suppose I know what I have to do. I know what I need to do as well. The trouble is the more popular question which is this – what am I going to do now that I am here?

It is dark before the dawn where I am now. Purgatory decided to dress for the holidays a little early this year. Then again, I suppose there’s more need for something to be hopeful for. Maybe this year might be the year that we end it all with a neat trick.
Maybe somehow, you and I will be together (again) and make up for the lost years of bullshit pastimes and subpar vacations from this crazy place.
Then again, I assume no one else would understand about these things.
Except you, of course.
Or except us.

Other than that, who else would know about the circle we travelled?
Who would know about the secrets we know about, even though we’ve never told each other or said anything.
I think it’s like something I told you.
People who care can hear you when you’re quiet.
They know the look on your face or the tone in your voice.
This is why I never accept when people who supposedly care tell me, “Oh, I had no idea,” because people like you (or people who love me) always seem to know, especially if I say nothing at all.

Who would know about the randomness of a reintroduction, despite the crazy restitution that went unpaid or unaddressed.
We never got what we thought we wanted.
Maybe no one does.
Or, maybe this is why I have chosen to stand up for myself and defend my own case.

It is early here.
But when isn’t it early?
Perhaps it’s always early until it’s too late.
If that makes any sense.
Some have told me that it is never too late.
You can start over at any given moment.
Even now.
You and I can erase what was and turn the rest of our life into the fairytale we always wished it could be.
There is no law or rule that says we can’t make something great happen. So you know, this is why I am choosing to defend my own life in this so-called court of injustice.

Either way, the hour is moving to the next and time is creeping up to the point where my bed and I had to separate.
I have been up for hours and thinking all about the thousand thoughts that come with overthinking.
I know who I have to face. I know the jury and the prosecutor as well as the judge. I know them all to be mostly unfair and far from impartial.
But this is what happens with people.
Give them authority or some power, and their holier than though attitude comes in like a caged beast..
Speaking of beasts . . .
I know one or two beasts. I see them all the time too.
They smile from either side of their double-faced world so that can play judge and jury, which, I suppose, I am guilty of that too.

The cruelty of truth and the distraction of interpretation can lead a man to lose his mind. I know this is true in my case.
This is not to say that I have much of my mind left.
I go to a line from a song when you and I were younger.
“I’m not sick. But I’m not well.”

I don’t have much left, but what I do have left is all that I have.
This is everything to me. And this is it.
This is the manifestation of overcoming the brutal truths and dismantling the damages of fights, preemptive decisions that caused me to fail or act preemptively. Above all, this is my time and my place and my stance to face the devils and the demons and all their evil magic.
This is my only chance to fight back with hopes that I too can be strong enough to say “get behind me, Satan,” and walk away, branded or not.
I have scars.
I have wounds.
I have shadows that haunt me and ghosts who follow.
But whether I am damned to hell or subject to be released, at least I showed up and dared to say “I love her!” and I always have.
And I always will too!

I do believe that we all have bottoms. I do not subscribe that there is only one bottom because people fall through the trap doors of their bottoms. And their falls hurt worse. But this is not a deterrent.
People still dare damnation because they do not truly understand their worth or that in their worst, God (if there is such a thing) would save a wretch, “like me!”

We all have different bottoms. And some fall more than once. Like me.
Some fall and then they can hit their bottom, and they can also forget their consequences. Or maybe they believe that somehow, they have one more shot or one more run left or one more chance to dance with the devil and come out ahead. 

But no.

No one ever wins these deals. No one comes out ahead and no one ever checks the fine print on the contracts that they sign.
The devil knows this.
And he smiles every time.
But do we see this?

No, we see the deal and our lust and gluttony for something more is blinding enough because in the end, the contract is signed and the amount due needs to be paid in full.
This is how we lose.
Trust me.
This is how we die alive and how our selfish desires overcomes us.

We lose to this because as far as the devils or the demons are concerned, time means nothing to them.
Time means nothing at all and since time does not exist when damnation is concerned, all the beasts need to do is to wait for your soul
And to them, this is nothing as well. 

But here is my question –
Here’s what I have been pacing the floors trying to figure out.
How do you get your soul back after you signed the deal?
Can this happen?
Has God written me off, like a bad debt, or am I crossed off the list for good, and never allowed to return to grace?
How many contracts are out there with my name on them?
Is this the same as it is with credit card debts or loans on top of loans?
Maybe this is so.
Maybe the demons are the creditors and they call you when you can hardly take it, just to send a friendly reminder that yes, “You owe!”
Is it this way with our soul that we borrowed too much?

Maybe . . . 

I see how we overspend to fill an empty void. I see how we use external things to solve internal problems.
I see how we take the trades or how the contracts leave us hungry or starving.
I feel this way too, sometimes. Is this the same for others?
Are we hungry enough that in the end, you lose everything down to the crumbs of toast from a breakfast you couldn’t afford to eat – not even the crumbs are yours anymore
(or mine).

Am I the only one who sold my soul?
Did I settle too much and take too many bad trades that this is my punishment for not holding on?
I could have worked harder.
I could have showed up more.
But I never believed that I would be enough.

Am I the only one who tried to re-up my contract with the demons, only to come out worse on the back end?

None of this is what I wanted. None of the deals were fair. Then again, no kind of high that comes with tricks or synthetic chemistries can last long enough to keep us on top of the world.

Nothing can match the rapture or the second coming or even the first coming or coming of true salvation. 
I know this because I tried.
I looked for the things that would make me feel lofty or otherwise suspended and blissful.
I knew that I had to face life, or “my life” as it were.
Hence, this is where I struggled to have faith.
Or better, this is where my lack of faith led to my lack of confidence, which led me to look for quicker or easier options.

I swore that I wanted more. I swore that I was either too weak or too insignificant to find my way or get what I wanted.
I had no faith that work and effort could take me to the promised land.
No, I supposed I’d try to hitch a ride or find ways to get around the guards at the front gate of success.

I swore that someone “like me” would have to look for an angle or cheat or break a few rules to “get in,” and get ahead.

This is why I always looked for the options. I looked for the angles and yes, I signed a few deals with the beast.
I knew the demons and I knew they had something in store for me.
They always look to cut a deal with those who fail to understand their value.
I never saw me for what I was truly worth.
I swore I was ugly. And even if someone thought I was pretty or their person, this would only be for a minute and when the minute turned, they would choose someone else.

I suppose I thought that I was going to do better on this deal.
I suppose I thought that when you sell your soul, you get what you want.
You get it all.
But all I got was robbed.
Or maybe my soul wasn’t as worthy as I believed. Maybe the beast knew that I would take the trade.
And I did. So, like I said –
this is why he smiles.

I wanted paradise. I wanted to be someone who could, at minimum, compete at the best levels.
I saw myself as disadvantaged.
I believed the lies and the predictions about me. So, I took the deals that came my way because otherwise, how else would I get ahead?

I never assumed that my hard work would lead me anywhere above subpar or mid-level achievements.
So, why bother?
I signed one too many contracts.
I took too many deals and pissed off too many people in the mix.
I wanted paradise. I wanted to be high or feel better or be above the abusive bullshit that pounced in my head.
I wanted this. 
You
A good life
A trip to someplace warm
And memories to last me beyond the afterlife.

I look for the highs and took what I could.
But whatever highs I saw were short-lived and anything lofty only came in bursts of tiny freedoms.

There was a voice inside of me.
I heard this too often, but of course, I shushed and said “be quiet!”
There was a voice telling me to be careful each time I felt joy or found myself somewhere amazing or beautiful.

Nothing was long-term. And all that was good or happy and beautiful was quick and gone.
I wanted to see the bright lights but no. The lights I saw were somehow separated between sparks of light and darkness. This was blurred, like a prism, or changing my view like the chips from a kaleidoscope which would only be enough to distort real light or distract my intentions.
I wanted color. I wanted more.
I wanted the dream and I wanted all of this to be real.

But nothing quick or stolen could ever be mine or real or worthy enough to fulfill the emptiness.
So, I needed more.
I threw myself into the excess to which, this is why I am here.

I am here to prove that I had signed a deal that did not come through.
The devils lied and so did the demons and as for the beast, well, we all know how he tricks us.
The beast tricks us with truth and disguises his lies with temptations that lead us astray. 

I suppose this is why everyone finds religion or their belief in God when all is too late and the hounds are at their heels.
I get that.
I know what it’s like to have the impending dooms, swell up like a tidal wave and the heartbeat explodes because you can’t run anymore.

So, we do what we do, right?
We submit and drown in the hells of sour quicksand that destroys our soul and leaves us lifeless. 

So, to you, the judge, the jury, and prosecutors and all else in attendance:
Yes, I admit that I signed the contract. I am not the only one,
look at yourselves too.
Are you so innocent?

I was misled. I was misguided and I was tricked.
I fell for something that was either bottled or packaged in pretty little lies. Then when I looked closer, I found out that none of it was real.
Thanks a lot, Satan.

I fell for the tricks that compiled and added and grew to this insurmountable thing, which of course, this is where the beast came in.

“Looks like you need help,” he said.
“Looks like you’re falling behind,” he told me.
“Looks like you could use a ‘pick-me-up’ to get you up to be a competitor.”
He knew me . . .
“Looks like I got something right here in my pocket that can make it all better.”
“Just sign here,” he told me.
“And I can make all of your dreams come true!” he promised.

Your Honor, I call this Exhibit D, the signed contract that was supposed to make everything “all better!” Further, I enter this as evidence that their breach of contract does not prove me innocent, but weak and found at the times when my faith was faithless. 

I remember back when I tried drugs for the first time, I was told that the first hit is always free. I was told that one is too many but a thousand is never enough.
I never thought that I would understand these details as intimately as I do now.

I do not use mind altering drugs.
I do not drink.
But the beast changed his tune and switched the script on me.

Beware the fine print, is all I was told.
But what if I was unable to read or truly understand the concepts of trading my soul for a life that is nothing more than soulless?
I am fighting for my life here.
And no one cares.

But I care.
Maybe I never did before
But I want more. And I had more too.
Now, all I want is be happy with less.

Understand?