Movement. Busyness. Distractions from the now. Today I set out to be active, to take part and be present. To live and feel alive, productive and contribute to the machine.
As a diversion tactic, this all worked well, worked fine. For a few hours there I felt more than just a cold outsider looking in.
But all the while this post lurked in the back of my mind, writing itself into my consciousness – muttering and chiding – “a constant grinding begging recognition of its voice.”
In reality, it was just cold reminder that all that elevated spirit was nothing more than a chemical response to physical exertion: you worked out, therefore you shall feel better.
But the problem with that is that as a solution, it’s empty and meaningless. It doesn’t change things, it only minimizes. This is not a resolution, it’s just medication.
Just like the drugs that used to drown reality in fake and fleeting euphoria, today’s little island of peace was completely fake and contrived.
It doesn’t fix things; it’s not the answer. It’s merely a balm for the external condition and the superficial internal responses.
And through all of this, I see fear in the people around me, a desperate hope I’ll return to the love and sweetness that is the mask I wear to keep life and people at bay.
Well, I’m sorry. You’re given no choice except to hold on for the ride or to bale and walk away – and that’s fine too. We are all just at different points of survival mode, aren’t we?
It’s going to get bumpy. But here’s the thing – it’s nobody’s fault. This is not a blame storm or a witch hunt. This not about mum or dad or their divorce; it’s not about the ex who raped me (yeah, you asked me to stop talking about it in public – you make the mistake of thinking you have the right to make any demands on me anymore. Suck it up, buttercup). This is not about the ex friend and our chemical transaction that masqueraded as an 18 year friendship with blurred lines.
This story goes back several decades to one night when a little boy lay in bed and first thought the words “I want to die”.
He is crying out to be heard.
And I can’t – I won’t silence him anymore.
©️ Dave Luis 2018. All Rights Reserved.