You know what??
I don’t care.
Not anymore
So . . .
I think I will say what I have to say and to be honest,
I do not care whether you listen or if anyone else
is on board with me
or for the moment, I refuse to let the outside influences
do anything to me that makes me
deny my truth
that is –
even if my truths are hard to face
or
unfortunate
So,
here I go.
I do believe in the right to lose your mind.
No, really. I do.
I think this is more healthy than people allow us to believe.
I think people would rather we be quiet
but this is more so
because this way
they do not have to deal with how they feel
about the way we feel –
So, they try ti encourage us by discouraging us
and so, people will tell us
hey,
you have to move on.
No shit?
Sometimes, the art of losing your mind is the only way
that we can stay sane.
Then again, and of course,
perhaps sanity is only relative.
Or maybe everything is relative or maybe
Edie Brickell was right when she sang
“everything is temporary, anyway.”
I believe everyone has the right to lose their mind.
We all have the right to go crazy,
which is not to say crazy as in wild, per se,
or crazy in a good way.
But then again, the word crazy
is also a relative.
Am I crazy,
well I suppose I am
or perhaps and relatively so
I am as crazy as I believe myself to be
Either way, we all have the right to lose our minds.
We have the right to rage
like a fire that burns like an inferno.
We can lose temper too.
This is allowed.
We can spit and curse,
and while I understand how this is frowned upon
I would rather get this out of me
then let my truths rot inside of me
or fest, like an open sore
that eats away at my heart.
This is life
and as I have famously said to you before
this is life and so
no one gets out of this alive.
Life happens, Life changes
and as for the plans we make,
life has a way of changing them too.
I see no reason to deny the truth. Or better,
it makes no sense to be dishonest
or to act like everything is fine
or okay and then we smile
and put on our brave face for a while.
Fuck that.
I understand the need to dress the part.
I understand the importance of what it means
to get back up when you get knocked down.
I do.
I understand this completely,
At the same time,
I know what it means to feel the kind of pain
that does not come with a physical description,
yet, we feel this pain worse than a broken bone
and we bleed from this
worse than from a cut
that slices deep into our flesh.
I know what invisible scars are and of course, so do you.
So does everybody.
Hence, this is why I say
we have the right to lose our mind.
We have the right to yell.
We have the right to be outraged,
and we have the right to want to fight
or declare war.
Sometimes, we have no choice but to lose our minds
due to life and life’s terms,
and so, we have the right to be mad
and we have the right to freak out
due to the circumstances
which are beyond our control.
We have the right to refuse
We have the right to rebel.
We have the right to fight back
or to reject the news that yes,
we have to face the undesirable and yes,
the undesired outcomes are heavy and weighty
and painful.
And yes, of course, we have the right to go crazy.
Absolutely, we do.
We have the right to yell or scream
or we can cry, if we need to.
We can bleed to prove we are still alive
and not dead
I reject the idea when people say things
like “don’t think that way,” or “don’t talk like that,”
because I would rather be honest.
Say what you need to say.
Do what you need to do
I would rather be truthful and face the truth
and face the topics at hand and therefore, I
would rather be honest about my thoughts than lie
or pretend or act as if everything is going to be fine.
It’s okay.
Right?
No.
it’s not okay.
pain might be normal and part of life
but no
pain is NOT okay.
it’s only necessary
I suppose.
The truth is sometimes….. nothing is okay.
Everything is not fine.
Sometimes, nothing will ever be okay again.
Why lie?
Sometimes, it’s okay to lose your mind
and yell or bitch and complain and yes,
there needs to be some kind of resolution.
And yes, there has to be “a way” and yes,
we have to heal. We have to adjust.
We have to get better.
We have to learn how to live or retrain our thinking
and we have to find a way to negotiate the terrain
and maneuver through our new landscapes,
which may look the same,
but our changes made everything “feel” different.
“You have to get over it,” is what I hear people tell us.
I reject this too.
I will never “get over”
some of my biggest and greatest losses.
I will never get over the heartbreak.
I will never get over the pain.
At best, I will learn how to readjust.
I will learn how to regain my composure.
I will learn how to live differently.
I know –
I will learn how to live again,
even though a piece of me is died.
And, if I am lucky,
I will learn how to love again or look back
at pieces of my past
and not have their bitterness spoil that fact
that at one point,
there was something sweet that took place,
and this happened regardless of the lies
or the heartbreaks
and the deceptions.
Beautiful lies are the most ugly thing on this Earth.
I am sure we all know this.
I remember my first time . . .
Well, not my first, first time.
But I remember my first time
when I thought that maybe
“this is love,” which it wasn’t real love
at least, not yet . . .
and at the same time,
I remember the feelings and the pain
and the humiliation
and the idea that told me,
“I will never get over this.”
I cannot say that I hold the same regard for that person.
At the same time, I can say that I do understand
the feelings and the memories of being a fool.
And hey, such is life when you are young
and such are the details of life
when you are trying to find love for the first time.
Such is life when you find out
you were being played as a fool
and such is life when a girl you are intimate with
calls you by another man’s name
at the worst time possible
in the middle of making love.
Am I so crazy?
No.
Am I so damaged?
Or am I deranged?
No. I am no more crazy
or more damaged than anyone else in this world.
At the same time,
I understand the damages and the wreckages from our past.
I understand the memories,
which linger and the fears that perhaps
the past will always be my future.
I wonder about the different degrees of lonesomeness
or how it is to be “alone”
and to live life in some ind of sad
or loveless regard.
At the same time, I am hopeful.
I am wishful. I am a dreamer too, of course,
and I am who I am
because I would rather dream and hope
than sink into the abysmal mud of an old
and emotional quicksand.
No matter what, and no matter how long it takes;
I know there is love out there for me.
And I know this love came with a price.
And I know that I have paid for this love,
in full.
Have I gone crazy?
Yes.
I have gone more crazy than I care to admit.
At the same time, I know this is good.
I know this is good that I still have
the ability to hurt and feel.
How lucky am I?
How fortunate have I become?
I know what love is and so,
I know that when my tome comes,
I will hold this so tight and mutually so,
that this kind of love would set aside
even the best romance novels and make characters
like Romeo and Juliet look at us
and either be jealous, or look at us with disgust
and say something like “Jesus Christ, get a room you two!”
I am this
Unapologetic and hopeful
I am hopeless and hopeful
and whether I am going to find my way; I
I know that even if this is only going to be mine for a minute –
I know I will have you before I die
And thus
I will always be in heaven
Forever
The Written Addiction 