a metaphor for the one who asked me to explain...
another rant about drugs and life, i couldn't post all this as a comment, so i've posted behind an LJ cut so that those who are content with their world can skip past it ;)
to enjoy life without losing it is a fine balance, rather like the mix of strength and dexterity required to play football.
the sad part is that for most of the people i know, including myself, in the past year or so, we dropped the ball while thinking we were still running for the goal. not satisfied with the truth, we invented new rules to mitigate the embarrassment we were feeling over losing sight of the goal.
yet drugs have brought nothing but misery to everyone i know.
i'd realised this sometime prior to my own incidence of neurological failure, but was unable to stop the gravy train from proceeding, it was out of control. only when i faced the shadow of death first-hand, did i find it within myself to jump off the speeding carriage and for the first time, i didn't keep the other hand on the rail, which would allow me to climb back on.
i'm glad i did that, but i'm sad that even i, for all my intellect and observational skills, still could not see the end of the line and resulting cliff-fall approaching at such a rapid speed. in a way, i'm lucky (as usual) that while i was looking out the window of the train, nervously wondering how long it could stay at this speed without being derailed, i was knocked out the window by a power pole and fell to the ground. no matter how hard i've called out after the train as it speeds away to the edge of the cliff, my warnings are now useless because i'm not onboard any longer. that makes me sad as well. even worse is that where i fell, in the middle of the desert, i'm alone and with limited supplies to get me back to civilisation.
the train has become but a dot on the horizon, i could follow the tracks but i know that all i'll find is the inevitable wreckage of where it went off the cliff with few, if any survivors. perhaps others were wondering what happened to me, and went looking; maybe they've also been knocked off the train. i have severe reservations that they'll be able to find themselves out of this desert into which we've been deposited. alternatively, i head back to civilisation as i recall it, probably by following the tracks back from whence they came. it could be a long journey, the road home is the most exciting usually, but this one has an air of silence to it.
i suppose i've somehow elected to do a little bit of both: i seem to recall once hearing of a rail siding ahead that swings back to a different world to the one i came from, but a kind of mystery place where everything is clear, compared to the confusion we left behind. it frightens me that it's such a risk -- what if the siding is a fable? how close to the end of the rails is this siding? but at least by going that way, i stand a chance of finding one or 2 other survivors, which will make finding the siding more bearable.
sweating it out in the hot sun, i found someone almost right away, although his preference seemed to be to seek survivors. no fear, we can take care of each other at least until we get to the siding. so far, no others have shown up. the remains of a few who didn't make it are visible every few days, and we've learnt a lot about what it all means by examining the bodies. we both keep breathing and thanking providence for our unique combination of survival skills, it has made the journey far less lonely. but the whiff of the descent is still with us, every step we take into the future seems to hint at the carnage that someday, we will realise for certain, people who were in the buffet and gaming cars with us, as gorgeous and delightfully decadent as they once were, will be just smouldering remains, lost forever on the ash-heap of history.
the future changed for me recently, the above story is of course, apocryphal. but the scent of recent fun and folly, mixed with the loss of closeness and carelessness, can still be sensed. to push on is the only chance, there is now no turning back, and there is no reason to think that if we did, possibly manage to catch another train, that anyone would want us on board.
we look wrecked from our journey through the desert, no-one wants that around.
but the signs are all there of the mysterious siding we've been looking for... signs i could not have seen before; hints in the desert. and each night after the sharp angle of the scorching sun, we can sometimes see the faint glow of life, illuminating the sky, albeit at right angles to the railway tracks upon which we depend as a guide. we both know we are on the right track, but our differing perceptions about what comes next is truly our biggest hurdle. we need each other so much that it could tear us apart. yet at the same time i know that we will probably have to part ways soon, if or when that siding finally appears.
again, it is about finding balance. not losing sight of the goal. respecting that it can't be done alone and knowing that to be apart could spell death.
survival is a strange condition.
© 2004 jeremy damien nicholas
to enjoy life without losing it is a fine balance, rather like the mix of strength and dexterity required to play football.
the sad part is that for most of the people i know, including myself, in the past year or so, we dropped the ball while thinking we were still running for the goal. not satisfied with the truth, we invented new rules to mitigate the embarrassment we were feeling over losing sight of the goal.
yet drugs have brought nothing but misery to everyone i know.
i'd realised this sometime prior to my own incidence of neurological failure, but was unable to stop the gravy train from proceeding, it was out of control. only when i faced the shadow of death first-hand, did i find it within myself to jump off the speeding carriage and for the first time, i didn't keep the other hand on the rail, which would allow me to climb back on.
i'm glad i did that, but i'm sad that even i, for all my intellect and observational skills, still could not see the end of the line and resulting cliff-fall approaching at such a rapid speed. in a way, i'm lucky (as usual) that while i was looking out the window of the train, nervously wondering how long it could stay at this speed without being derailed, i was knocked out the window by a power pole and fell to the ground. no matter how hard i've called out after the train as it speeds away to the edge of the cliff, my warnings are now useless because i'm not onboard any longer. that makes me sad as well. even worse is that where i fell, in the middle of the desert, i'm alone and with limited supplies to get me back to civilisation.
the train has become but a dot on the horizon, i could follow the tracks but i know that all i'll find is the inevitable wreckage of where it went off the cliff with few, if any survivors. perhaps others were wondering what happened to me, and went looking; maybe they've also been knocked off the train. i have severe reservations that they'll be able to find themselves out of this desert into which we've been deposited. alternatively, i head back to civilisation as i recall it, probably by following the tracks back from whence they came. it could be a long journey, the road home is the most exciting usually, but this one has an air of silence to it.
i suppose i've somehow elected to do a little bit of both: i seem to recall once hearing of a rail siding ahead that swings back to a different world to the one i came from, but a kind of mystery place where everything is clear, compared to the confusion we left behind. it frightens me that it's such a risk -- what if the siding is a fable? how close to the end of the rails is this siding? but at least by going that way, i stand a chance of finding one or 2 other survivors, which will make finding the siding more bearable.
sweating it out in the hot sun, i found someone almost right away, although his preference seemed to be to seek survivors. no fear, we can take care of each other at least until we get to the siding. so far, no others have shown up. the remains of a few who didn't make it are visible every few days, and we've learnt a lot about what it all means by examining the bodies. we both keep breathing and thanking providence for our unique combination of survival skills, it has made the journey far less lonely. but the whiff of the descent is still with us, every step we take into the future seems to hint at the carnage that someday, we will realise for certain, people who were in the buffet and gaming cars with us, as gorgeous and delightfully decadent as they once were, will be just smouldering remains, lost forever on the ash-heap of history.
the future changed for me recently, the above story is of course, apocryphal. but the scent of recent fun and folly, mixed with the loss of closeness and carelessness, can still be sensed. to push on is the only chance, there is now no turning back, and there is no reason to think that if we did, possibly manage to catch another train, that anyone would want us on board.
we look wrecked from our journey through the desert, no-one wants that around.
but the signs are all there of the mysterious siding we've been looking for... signs i could not have seen before; hints in the desert. and each night after the sharp angle of the scorching sun, we can sometimes see the faint glow of life, illuminating the sky, albeit at right angles to the railway tracks upon which we depend as a guide. we both know we are on the right track, but our differing perceptions about what comes next is truly our biggest hurdle. we need each other so much that it could tear us apart. yet at the same time i know that we will probably have to part ways soon, if or when that siding finally appears.
again, it is about finding balance. not losing sight of the goal. respecting that it can't be done alone and knowing that to be apart could spell death.
survival is a strange condition.
© 2004 jeremy damien nicholas