Laugh, Cry, It's All The Same
Those who say, "I'm my own worst enemy" don't know the half of it. I've spent a lifetime being at odds with myself. And Jesus, I'm not getting any younger.
Welcome to the 21st Century, the next chapter in the saga of me going nowhere. Aw, who am I kidding? We're coming on almost a decade into the new Century and I still haven't learned a thing. I'm the dreamer without will. Either too lazy to pursue the dreams or too afraid of failing and discovering I'm not any damn good to see them through.
I'd like to blame scarring events in my childhood or sheer dumb luck, but when all the chips are counted and all the whores are paid, the fault lays squarely at my feet. Like the dead chewed up mouse left to me by the invisible cat gods I do not like but are too scared of to dismiss outright. I see that some of my artistic heroes are now younger than I am and having already achieved so much, cast a long shadow on my empty ramblings, my hollow dreams.
Sometimes I want to believe it has something to do with the fucked up chemistry in my brain or perhaps the way the planets align in the cosmos. But it's a lie. I've at least stopped lying to myself and know whose at fault, which poor bastard needs to be executed for crimes against the writer's dreams. But in the world where you rule as king, judge, jury, and executioner, it is hard to get the sense of purpose to even see your own ending out.
I should kill this dream once and for all. Give up the notion I'm ever going to have anything worthy to say or contribute. Give up on the art and the words and the ideas I want to share or at least, infect everyone with. It might be better to resign myself to the existence of quiet living and sensible ideas. It would at least quell the demon that hides underneath my skin.
Alas, however, it shall never be. Though it makes sense to free it from my grasp, the dream is all I have. It's as much a part of me as my hair and flesh and ache. So here in the dark hours, the midnight hours, underneath a veil of shadows, I cannot find a way to make the dream work for me or I for it. And I cannot let it go.
Funny, that.
(c)Shawn J. Douglas 2009
Welcome to the 21st Century, the next chapter in the saga of me going nowhere. Aw, who am I kidding? We're coming on almost a decade into the new Century and I still haven't learned a thing. I'm the dreamer without will. Either too lazy to pursue the dreams or too afraid of failing and discovering I'm not any damn good to see them through.
I'd like to blame scarring events in my childhood or sheer dumb luck, but when all the chips are counted and all the whores are paid, the fault lays squarely at my feet. Like the dead chewed up mouse left to me by the invisible cat gods I do not like but are too scared of to dismiss outright. I see that some of my artistic heroes are now younger than I am and having already achieved so much, cast a long shadow on my empty ramblings, my hollow dreams.
Sometimes I want to believe it has something to do with the fucked up chemistry in my brain or perhaps the way the planets align in the cosmos. But it's a lie. I've at least stopped lying to myself and know whose at fault, which poor bastard needs to be executed for crimes against the writer's dreams. But in the world where you rule as king, judge, jury, and executioner, it is hard to get the sense of purpose to even see your own ending out.
I should kill this dream once and for all. Give up the notion I'm ever going to have anything worthy to say or contribute. Give up on the art and the words and the ideas I want to share or at least, infect everyone with. It might be better to resign myself to the existence of quiet living and sensible ideas. It would at least quell the demon that hides underneath my skin.
Alas, however, it shall never be. Though it makes sense to free it from my grasp, the dream is all I have. It's as much a part of me as my hair and flesh and ache. So here in the dark hours, the midnight hours, underneath a veil of shadows, I cannot find a way to make the dream work for me or I for it. And I cannot let it go.
Funny, that.
(c)Shawn J. Douglas 2009