Well, well, well. It has been a while since I have posted anything, and with good reason. I have felt tapped and uninspired. Nothing new to report, and what feels like nothing but complaints rolling around in the space once occupied by my brain. Who in the hell wants to read that?
That said, it has been an interesting time on this rotating orb in space we occupy. How we maintain any sense of stability and the ever elusive “happiness” is beyond me. With the skewed fragments I am able to see, it all seems so confusing and difficult. I never know if what I perceive to be happening is what is actually happening. If I am so deeply immersed in the fictions of my mind that I no longer have the ability to differentiate between perception and reality. In other words; I am living in a Phillip K Dick novel every second of every day. And, it’s getting exhausting.
If one image could sum up the way I feel, it’s this:
That said, why is it I cannot escape the feeling that all of this is for a reason? My insane ability to feel such strong emotions, and experience such dark times. Is it truly my role in our current society as the artist to expose myself to the ever flowing tide of emotions caused by the human experience? Or, am I just a functioning nutcase? Who’s to say? (Besides a psychiatric professional) I am certain I am not alone in this experience. The troubling thing is; do I really want to know who’s with me? (grin)
My answer to these thoughts and emotions is to change. Reinvent myself, as it were. Diet change. Physical exercise. Cut out drinking and drugs and coffee and sugar and sex. The complete opposite from the man who made me want to write in the first place.
The unfortunate aspect of my personality is the foolish act of being impulsive. I get an idea and without REALLY thinking it through, I act on it. Case in point; my newly shaved head. The most recent impulsive thought is to completely delete my Facebook account. To just wipe that particular slate clean. However, that impulse is a direct response to another familiar impulse of mine – the act of pulling away from everything. To enter the bachelor bat-cave and go into hiding. Close myself off from the world at large until the gestation period is over and I feel like being among the living once more.
I never, in a million years, imagined I would be this person I have become. In fact, who in the hell is this guy? Is he a good man with faults? Is he a bad man hiding behind kindness? Is he a good and loving father? Or is he just a waste of space? These questions are always changing and never-ending, and I sincerely hope I am alone in this as I would never wish this feeling on anyone. It is a cold and terrifying place to exist, and it takes the will of Les Stroud simply to survive.
And then, there’s that. The ability to survive in spite of it all. To experience the doom and gloom and walk out into the light after the rubble has been cleared. Everything that I have ever gone through has turned me into a genuinely empathetic and understanding individual who tries to use what I have been through to help others who may find themselves in the same boat. I may not be a solid-as-a-rock muscle man with six pack abs and a chest that wont quit. However, in the gladiatorial arena of compassion and understanding – I AM SPARTICUS!!!
I guess the only question I have to ask myself is, “is it worth it?” Is over-thinking every moment and questioning your worth every second of every day really a productive way to spend your time? Well, if I can turn that around and help someone else who may be headed towards the same path – then, yes it is. If I can help just one person feel like they are not alone in what they are experiencing, and that there truly is someone who understands what they are feeling – then, yes it is.
I would have never made it this far if not for the patient and loving individuals I am fortunate enough to have around me. To them, I wish to recognize their calm and support, and to say I consider myself blessed.
I am reminded of the beautiful ending to the The Wall by Pink Floyd.
All alone, or in two’s,
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall.
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands.
The bleeding hearts and artists
Make their stand.
And when they’ve given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it’s not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger’s wall.
Thanks for listening.