A Letter To Self

Dear Angels Above

The sunrise was something different this morning. Amazing, I say.
This was beautiful, of course, which is not unlike you. But the sunrise today was different, just the same.
Maybe this was a message for me. Or maybe this was an offering of some kind.
Or maybe this was a symbol or a sign that signified a change is on the way.
At least, God, I hope so.
The weight gets too heavy now and my bones cannot always take the load or carry the weight.

I was told every day is a new beginning.
I was told this a long time ago but my mind was caught in the cobwebs of my old familiar patterns, which kept me stuck in the past and otherwise locked in a process known as “more of the same.”

All of my weary dreams changed this morning. They all went distant after I noticed the first light in the sky, which was peaceful to me.
I have not slept much. . .
I am tired, of course. I am exhausted, to tell you the truth.
But this is life when the lack of sleep and confusion take turns throughout the night.
Either way, I have to say that there was something heavenly about the sky this morning.
I suppose I should say thank you for this.
And, so, thank you.
I needed to see what I saw
(and think of you)

There was something different about today’s sunrise. There was something about the shafts of sunlight that beamed from the horizon, which is proof that in my heart, somehow; I know that Heaven still exists
(at least to me.)

I have to say though – 
Whether I am thinking like a child or not, I have to believe that there’s “something” out there.

Ah, the new day’s sky.
I love it when the clouds are this way. The clouds are scattered, like cotton balls, outstretched and all pillowy and laced across the sky.
I love the mixture of colors and the different hues of dawn’s early light.
I love how the patches of clouds take on the colors of dawn and how their underbellies seem to know their beauty.
I love this, which I suppose and accept as a sign that no matter what happens with us or with the battles at hand; beauty can never be forgotten.

Good morning, my dear sweet Angels and Angels of Mercy.
Look at me.
Pray for me.
Have mercy on me, a sinner.
Pardon me and forgive me, even if I lack the ability to forgive or pardon myself or anyone else.

I need your help.
So, please, let me finish my plea.

I wrote a letter to the Devil I know yesterday. I sent my thoughts with hopes that I could rid myself of him. I had to do this.
I need to rid myself from the demons who otherwise infiltrated my soul and infested my thinking. Hence, this is the truest thing that left me diseased.

I am as I have been made.
Therefore, I am as I have been created to be.
Therefore to The Father, and The Son, and The Holy Spirit; if I am meant to be, then obviously, I will be meant to be.
Or whatever that means. . .

And so, I understand more now than I did before.
And thus, my goals are as follows:
I am not looking to find my own greatness as much as I am looking to achieve my own balance.
I am not here to surrender my dreams by any means and nor am I here to allow my life to continue this way. I can no longer allow myself to be forgotten or to be deferred.
But more, I am simply here to testify to my truths  and clarify my intentions.

I am here to confess and yes, I can only hope this will qualify me for a spot in the circle or a place in the sun.

I do not want to go or to lay down or walk softly or to go gently. I do not want to walk backwards into the breach of an old war that never existed, except in my head.
I do not want to continue with my weary soldiers that battle too often or make them weak from a war that kept going for way too long.

I am not who I assumed I was and nor is my life what I wished it was.
I am standing down.
I remove myself from the equation.
I have not surrendered or given way to the taxes my enemies have imposed on me. I have not quit, at least, not in all regards.
No.
I am moving through the fragments of my own imagination, which fray and confuse my memories, like the bottom of an old tattered rope that swung from a tire and a tree branch in the burden of my childhood.
The ride is not over. at least, not per se. But the routes have changed and the fellow passengers are not the same as they were.
My weary soldiers are all worn thin and the battlescars are highly visible in an invisible sense.
Everyone can see the unseeable things, if they look closely enough.
And that’s my fear, that I will be seen and once again, I will have to go at this place alone, and unwanted.

Please . . .
Help me. 

It is not alarming or so concerning that life changes. Nothing is the same and perhaps the answer is yes, my life has changed a long time ago.
I was too afraid to see it.
I was too afraid to let go because the devils I knew told me that I would be in the dark without them; and like any child, yes, I admit to you that I am afraid of the dark.
I say this and shake my head because as afraid as I am; I have lived in the dark for longer than I have been bathed in the light.

Everything has changed.
However, my connection to old diagrams and models of happiness were betrayed by the truths which had eventually come to light.

I see this now.
I see this and the lies the demons told me, which is why I kept myself in the dark because if I can’t see it, then maybe none if this is real.
But all of this is real
and so are you
(to me)

I suppose this is a good thing about living in darkness.
The demons do not need to hide or worry about how to avoid the light, which shines across their darkest deeds to expose them as predators and make us aware..

Nothing and no one, not you, not even me can alter the past or relitigate the facts or the outcomes of our aftermath.
What happened will always be what happened.
But what happens next has something to do with how we move next.
So, next, we have to move smart.
Or so I hope.

No one is above the law, nor is anyone beneath the laws. We are all on a similar playing field, which is altered by opinion, and altered by perspective and our surroundings are often altered by the deception of our perception.

I cannot see me so clearly and nor can I confess to the sights or the touch or the feel from anyone else’s hand. Therefore, I do not have the right or the strength to battle with the demons anymore. I cannot fight with those who burrowed inside me, like dying worms that infested and fed on the meat of my soul.

I am only a man, and perhaps the jury and the judgment is still out on that one.
But I am a man, nonetheless.

And to you, dear Angels and angel of Mercy, come for me please.
Protect me.
Give me sight where I am blind and take my sight where I can see.
Let me live and be alive instead of dying one day at a time.

Redemption.
come for me.
please.

The world is a beautiful place.
Love is a beautiful thing
Bless me, a sinner.
Bless my ugliness.
Bless my fears and anoint my scars for they are the proof that I have lived and fallen and yet; i am here to live and fall another day.

Blessed Father,

Help me for I am bleeding colorlessly in a black and white world.
Help me see the fruits of my truth.
Bless me so that I can see my worth which sets me above the faded memories, which have distorted my view and blinded me like a shortsighted child too hurt, too bullied, and too afraid to dance when the music came on.

I am smaller now.
But I can grow again.
I can be better again.

I can be good.
I know I can.

Please, save me and if not . . .
Then please allow me the courage and the dignity to save myself because apparently, everyone else is too busy with their own salvation to lend a hand and say, hey, come with me . . .

I ask this in your name
I pray

Amen.