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Hard Truths

I understand this will not be suitable for everyone. Then again, this is not written for everyone. This is not even written for anyone in particular. Perhaps this is just for me or not at all. Either way, there are some that can attest to this. There are some who relate and some who understand. There are some who think or have felt this way too; and to them, this is something that makes sense.

There are different marks of recovery. There are different reasons why people at some point, rise up and walk away from their former self. And, quite honestly, in the beginning is a moment of awareness. In the beginning are the countless thoughts and fears that seem unrelenting.

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A Little from the Abstract: Introspectively

There is a street that runs up a hill not too far from my house. I like it up there. I like the way the street bends and winds around. I like how it moves through the upstate land and country homes. I like that I can breathe here. I’m out of the City. I’m away from the elements, so to speak. I’m out of the current climate and away from the political arguments and the detrimental rhetoric. I’m here on my own with my chest to the wind and the breeze through my hair, which I have decided to grow out again for just such an occasion.
I love these walks. I love each step I take because each step tells me that I’m moving closer to something. And I might not know what this means. I might not know where I am or where I’m going but at least I know that I’m not standing still.

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Bias: Fear and Pain

There is a great phenomenon that takes place when we simplify our life and break down all the complications and intimidations which stand in our way. Suddenly, the elephant in the room isn’t around or so uncomfortable anymore. The big bad wolf isn’t so big or bad. And we see things clearer now.
There is an amazing aftermath that takes place after we deactivate the distractions that grow in our mind, like weeds that suffocate the roots of our dreams, goals, plans and restrict the strategies we’d used to achieve them.

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Vision: In Two Parts

1)

There is this great big world out there. There are places that I have seen in my dreams and places that I keep in my memory. I have these mental pictures which I keep like tiny artifacts that make up my history. I have dreams sometimes. I have old connections that reappear like a visit from the spirits of my past. And I call this love. I call this something. Maybe I call this a visit. Or maybe this is my mind connecting to an old need. Maybe this is me connecting to an old recollection that links me back to a sentiment, which I miss wholeheartedly.
Let me ask you, what do you remember from your childhood?

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Time In Perspective

I know why the youth are wild. I know that everything is all about time. Whether you’re young or old, it’s all about time. No matter how we slice this, we’re all on the clock in one way or another. The only difference is our priorities. The difference is our perspective.

See, as kids we used to look up at our parents. We’d look up at the adults in our circle of influence. We would see them work. We would hear them talk about life and bills, mortgages and insurance. As kids, we saw our parents work and argue. We saw them slave. We heard them yell at the television and argue with the news. We heard them complain about the price of gas. And when you’re a kid, you see this and swear to yourself, “I’ll never be that way.”

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A Definition of Unmanageability

Just a quick note before we begin: I would like to start by saying this note is from the heart. I would also like to say that opinions may vary. Perspectives will vary too and so will perception. However, the following paragraphs are mine. This is about me and my relation to the way I was able to understand my life. Therefore, without apology, I offer this porthole into my thinking without celebration or decoration of any kind.
I understand if you turn back here. I am not here to glamorize anything nor do I condone the flashy war stories that most people talk about. In fact, one of the most common feedbacks in my story is (whether the topic is substance abuse, alcohol, depression, or violence and crime) that I never talk about the acts or the substance itself. Instead, I talk about the feelings and the source. I talk about my reasoning and my motivation. I do this because I would rather be honest than be a misrepresented posture of something that is destroying our society. And rest assured, mental illness, disorder and diseases are painfully real.
So, here it goes . . . .

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A Letter

Hey kid,
I’m writing this letter with hopes that my thoughts might come in handy. I was hoping some of this might help the world make a little sense one day. Then again, I’m not too sure the world makes sense to anyone anymore. But either way, I figured it’s worth a shot.

I don’t know where you are right now. At least, not exactly. I don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re thinking. I don’t know who you trust or confide in. I know the roads we take are confusing sometimes. This trip we’re on is a wild ride. That’s for sure. So, buckle up but don’t be afraid to ride with the wind in your hair.

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The Right Words . . . .

There is the ongoing and sometimes unfortunate truth that life keeps moving without worrying about us or what we think, feel or have to say about it. Either way, life moves. Time is always gaining momentum and the pressures to “Be” keep mounting. In which case, words and helpful suggestions can become nothing more than superfluous noise. There is the ongoing and often unfortunate truth that life comes with heartbreak. Life comes with loss. There will be pain. There will be disappointment. There will be downfalls and setbacks, which come with no explanation, other than “It just didn’t fit.”
But goddammit and dammit all, sometimes.
(You know?)

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According to Plan

Did I ever tell you about my friend Clear Shot? For the record, Clear Shot wasn’t his birth name. No, this is his nickname. The reason for his nickname was because Clear Shot would create sprinkler drawings for commercial office buildings.
There are old buildings throughout New York City that were built before current standards as the new buildings we have today. Enter my friend Clear Shot.
His job was to sketch a plan for the Department of Buildings to have on file. The drawings were detailed prints which designed the plan; and the details of this work needed to be done according to the plan upon inspection. However, anyone in the construction business knows to always expect the unexpected.

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