And I go back to this idea because in all fairness, where else can I go?
Where else can I go if I have no better place than this?
Who else can I turn to if I have no one else?
And if I have no one else, then let me turn to you here.
Or, at least let me try.
I go back to the idea that you can’t care. You just can’t.
You can’t care about the psychopaths or the angry ones or the enemies at the gates.
You have to ignore them.
Ignore them and the hypocrites and their lies and their accusations and the rumors they spread.
Ignore the banter because this only draws you in, which is all they want anyway.
Right?
Stalkers want attention.
So do enemies.
This is their life.
How amazing this is for them . . .
right?
You can’t look left or right. Just straight ahead.
You can’t give in. You can’t let yourself succumb to your common distractions or nurture your usual intimidations.
Let that shit go . . .
You can’t care about these things because in hindsight, you will look back your life and see how this was always a case of “you against you,” or in the subjective sense, this has always been a case of me against me.
I against I.
And no, it is unfortunate but true.
There are no winners in fights.
No one wins because the fight itself is a loss.
Fights are losses because this means we allowed someone so much importance in our lives that we allowed them to destroy our peace. And, so, this is why I refuse to respond to half the nonsense I hear these days.
Fuck that . . .
Wasting my time or energy is wasting time and energy that I will never get back.
So, why bother?
No one wins in a fight . . .
We all have to lose at least something.
Whether the fight causes us to gain ground or advance, we still lose blood, sweat, tears, and often enough we lose the sensation of touch because of the skin we lost because we hung on so tight.
So, I have chosen to let go.
In the cases of me against me or I against I, I understand the fight is unwinnable.
Nobody wins fight like this unless we learn to settle with the consequences.
Accept what is
Let go of what was.
And work for what will be.
This makes good sense.
Note to self:
For every action, there is a reaction.
Not everything goes back into place.
Not everything keeps its shape or holds its value. But more, not every smile is friendly and not every promise is kept.
Sometimes, we degrade our worth and oftentimes, we degrade the value of our life because we lose ourselves to excuses and reasons why we stayed with someone when deep down, we knew we should have left a long time ago.
.
And, no.
I’m sorry.
I do not want to lose anymore.
I don’t care about winning much either.
I just want more.
Therefore, I have to go back to the idea which is this: I cannot care.
I cannot look left or right or be distracted or swayed or lose my place anymore.
If it is true what they say, then it makes sense to say, “To thine own self be true.”
So, let me go back to the truth . . .
I wrote something pure in my first real attempt to journal. This is when I made the commitment to document my journey.
No one cared. No one knew me.
I was better for this.
No one had any say or influence on whether I write about them or whether I write about love or pain, blood, envy, rage. revenge or lust.
I was free to enjoy my blank canvass.
No one knew me and perhaps no one really cared and perhaps I was better this way.
Maybe it is better to be unknown and to create and write from the heart.
Maybe I lost myself more than once and maybe my hopes to be connected to someone, or to have “this thing,” which was more than cosmic and more than special was too blinding to me.
Maybe I was too afraid that my fantasies would never be fulfilled and thus; maybe I was afraid that I would never be better than average or hardly mediocre.
At the same time . . .
Maybe my belief in fate and destiny was enough to bring me a special grade of euphoria.
Maybe my own pleasure was my best aphrodisiac and to me, maybe my anonymity was as beautiful as an unknown wave that covers the shore. And ah, just like that, “splash,” and the wave is gone, never to return, and never to be heard from again.
I remember the evening when I decided to make this work
I remember the reasons why I wrote the words, “my redemption has nothing to do with your response.” and yet, I wrote those words when I was at my worst.
I was at the end of my rope, so-to-speak. I was down and out and at my lowest.
But the same time, no one ever talks about what it was like to be at their lowest point.
No one speaks about these things or talks about how they believed that life could not get worse, only to find out that yes . . . life can always get worse.
Sometimes, we find out that the so-called bottom we hit is equipped with a trap door, and boom!
Down we fall, deeper and even further than before.
Either way, I go back to that idea again.
You can’t care. You can’t even flinch.
Take the pain. Acknowledge the crime.
Bleed.
Reset.
Stand.
You can’t care about who stayed or who went.
You can’t forget about those who tossed you a rope when you were drowning in thin air.
You cannot forget who helped you sink or swim, but at the same time, you cannot expect the life boat which always seems to arrive late to save your drowning soul.
I like that idea . . .
I like how Frank Zappa called one of his albums, A Lifeboat Arriving Late To Save a Drowning Witch.
I can dig it
However –
I am no witch or warlock and nor am I treading water, but yes, and with all of my heart and humility, I understand what it means to drown in thin air.
I can relate to the sad desperation of what it means and figuratively; I relate to what it feels like to drown while waiting for a lifeboat that’s running late.
You cannot care.
You cannot wonder who will be there or who will cheer, just to watch you drown.
And you can’t get in the game, just for revenge.
You cannot get up with your vendettas and let your hate fuel your fire.
This might seem like it helps. And maybe hate and rage has their place.
But in my case, the rage nearly buried me alive.
I am not here just to prove to someone else that yes, see?
I can get back up. I am worthy.
I can be enough too, if you’ll have me . . .
I can stand with the best of them.
I can stand on my own two feet.
There is no story to tell or write on the walls anymore.
There is no need for the charade or the semantics.
And no, this is not like the way it was when we were kids, smoking in the bathroom at school.
Remember?
This is not like it was when we were taking permanent markers and writing our nonsense and bullshit on the bathroom walls and thinking that somehow, I have a million tomorrows in my pocket.
So what’s the big deal if I waste one more.
My number of tomorrows has dwindled away before my eyes.
I think about the fraudelent lies and the weakness of egocentric bullshit.
Everyone is a big shot when their pockets are full. Everyone has a smile when their fortune is great.
The lights are bright, the room is full and the music is on point.
Everyone smiles when the members of their love life are kind and mutual and the flood of beautiful attention is on tap.
And everyone is happy when their love is on tap too, just like an ongoing ale house that feeds you drinks in the form of a lustful and greedy excess. |
Everyone is happy when their spirits are high
There is no help or savior and, in fact, the only helping savior is only helpful if you choose to find them. And hence, this means you have to dig deep and you have to be ready and willing to receive this kind of saving.
Most people negotiate their own rescues because most people don’t want to be completely saved.
I agree
No one can save their ass and their face at the same time.
Still. . .
Vanity has no place here.
No, this is not for the vain or for the proud vanity that stems from an otherwise porcelain figure which is our ego.
And ah, the ego . . .
The ego is fragile to say the least.
And yes, this is our ego, and this is the cause of our fragile downfalls because above all, if pride comes before the fall, then let me fall now. I get what I have done.
I would rather face my sins and take the punishment now than wait and see if I can sneak one more, “passed the goalie,” so to speak.
I don’t need to score anymore.
No
Let me get this over with.
Let me take the pain.
Let me hit rock bottom and find that the trap door led me to fall deeper and farther down the so-called rabbit hole.
Let me endure this now, rather than later and let me face the pit of despair and self-destruction.
Let me hit it
Let me hit the wall
Let me die alive so that I can reawaken to some kind of eternal life and be reborn.
Let me be cleansed and somehow washed from the sins of my past.
Let this come for me now so that I can come out clean and be free on the other side.
I know . . .
My redemption has nothing to do with anyone or anything else
My redemption only has to do with me.
And simply put, my redemption will only equal the depths of my intention.
So, if I give my all and all of my efforts are given so that I can be redeemed, then it is true:
My success is equal to the strength of my commitment.
I once wrote to you that the depth of my love is equal to the span of my hate.
If I can hate that much then I have the ability to love just as deeply.
To thine own self be true . . .
You can’t care who will show up.
You can’t care about being alone.
You can’t care about the crowds or the benefits of being in love.
You can’t care about the damages you left behind or the wounds which you’ve incurred during your years of neglect.
You cannot relive and renegotiate the old fights to get out of the hole you were in.
You can’t care if you will love again or be loved.
And you cannot give up on your journey.
Stop blaming people.
Stop waiting to be rescued
Be your own hero.
Be your own best friend.
And never . . .
Never forget or reject the truth which is that we have to save our own life . . .
. . . each and every day.
Do not mistake what I am saying and believe that I do not care.
NO.
I care far too deeply.
But again, this is about about redemption
And as I said many times before
My redemption has nothing to do with your response.
My redemption has nothing to do with being reborn or born again, and nor does my redemption have anything to do with the fact that I want more
I want more for myself
I want more than what I had and more than what I have.
So?
To get more, I have to do more
And so, what do I plan to do now?
More.
Of course.
The Written Addiction 