Baby Steps.
A dweller, in the wells of faintly uttered alternatives. Barely there, almost imperceptible. But there to be found...To be examined and painstakingly broke down and understood in the form of a knot in the gut suggesting a highly likely truth, sometimes not even apparent to the lying party.
I keep thinking of that five year question. Where will I be? I can't help but feel wholly aimless. I've been riding a coaster of high happies turbulent foolishness and low, killer lows. I guess when I think about future I wonder why try hard to earn a life I still think is trivial and empty, why not try little and end up feeling the same way? Sometimes I wonder about getting rid of debt and joining the peace core or disappearing into the wilderness for a few years. Other times, I value my life so little because of my lack of wills that I feel I belong somewhere on the front lines, in the military. Some place for lost souls and people who don't fear that muscle in their chest stopping.
Death can be quick, or drawn out. I imagine myself laying on my back, looking up at a normal sky, day or night, on some high pain threshold where everything numbs over under the shock of circumstance and the thought process- the oh so alluring thought process you can't avoid. When your brain calculates that you have only seconds and you accept things are ending. And I smile, every time.
Every time, it's comforting, not scary. No lamenting. I just picture my dad standing, holding the screen door open smiling at me with those crow feet eyes, the pride in his creation beaming through him. So happy to be my dad, my best friend... As I walk out the door and head to my car. I dunno why, but it's always that image. And I feel like, dieing, is me deciding to throw my hand in the doors closing arc and throw it back open and walk back inside to hug him. It's just an electrical pulse in my cerebral cortex... But knowing I'm giving my energy back to the cosmos just as he did, is enough.
Not suicidal, just very ok with death. Very VERY ok. Anticipatory even.
Something tells me my dad wouldn't like me feeling that way. And I'm working on it, I'm working on finding that happy that makes me hold tightly onto each day, I promise.
Baby steps.
I keep thinking of that five year question. Where will I be? I can't help but feel wholly aimless. I've been riding a coaster of high happies turbulent foolishness and low, killer lows. I guess when I think about future I wonder why try hard to earn a life I still think is trivial and empty, why not try little and end up feeling the same way? Sometimes I wonder about getting rid of debt and joining the peace core or disappearing into the wilderness for a few years. Other times, I value my life so little because of my lack of wills that I feel I belong somewhere on the front lines, in the military. Some place for lost souls and people who don't fear that muscle in their chest stopping.
Death can be quick, or drawn out. I imagine myself laying on my back, looking up at a normal sky, day or night, on some high pain threshold where everything numbs over under the shock of circumstance and the thought process- the oh so alluring thought process you can't avoid. When your brain calculates that you have only seconds and you accept things are ending. And I smile, every time.
Every time, it's comforting, not scary. No lamenting. I just picture my dad standing, holding the screen door open smiling at me with those crow feet eyes, the pride in his creation beaming through him. So happy to be my dad, my best friend... As I walk out the door and head to my car. I dunno why, but it's always that image. And I feel like, dieing, is me deciding to throw my hand in the doors closing arc and throw it back open and walk back inside to hug him. It's just an electrical pulse in my cerebral cortex... But knowing I'm giving my energy back to the cosmos just as he did, is enough.
Not suicidal, just very ok with death. Very VERY ok. Anticipatory even.
Something tells me my dad wouldn't like me feeling that way. And I'm working on it, I'm working on finding that happy that makes me hold tightly onto each day, I promise.
Baby steps.