00042: Daily Hell
It’s been over 600 days.
It’s been a long, long while since I published my last novel. Is this writer’s block? Or just creative apathy?
I’ve started this “one piece of writing a day” public record in an attempt to get re-focused & back to some semblance of productivity on the e-book front.
I have been thinking for days about this. I deleted you from all of my contacts and I don’t even remember if this is the correct address, so maybe this letter won’t even reach you.
Maybe you won’t even read it, but I have to write it. To put these feelings out of my heart and onto paper.
Some months ago when you contacted me more seriously about coming to you, living with you while you did your thing and I did mine, I knew that something was happening. The loneliness, the separation, your new life were all starting to change you.
I knew it wouldn’t be long before you gave up.
Ironically it was in winter again. We always had trouble with winter, didn’t we? Every close break-up we had was around October, yet somehow we’d managed to survive. But not this time.
I didn’t expect us to survive as long as we did. So many YEARS apart, yes. I know it was years, and those years you were alone you should have had the love of someone closer to you than me. I am deeply sorry that I couldn’t be with you.
But we both knew my obligations, and our distance, were challenges. It’s the reason WHY we waited so long that was the important thing for me: this was my TRUE love, with you. I have never, and I think I will never, love anyone more than I loved you.
I still love you, in some way. But when you closed the door on me some months ago I went into a kind of shock. I didn’t want to accept it, even though you know my philosophy was to accept it. If you wanted to be free, I had to let you be free.
It was so easy to say, but when it really came to it, when you really wanted to go away from me, I couldn’t deal with it.
I stopped working, and just started drifting all day. My depression became huge. And I’m not blaming you! This letter is not to point a finger to you and be angry, no. I want you to know that I suffered, and that it was MY FAULT.
I made the wrong decisions, I waited too long. I made you wait, alone, for too long. Beautiful, beautiful woman, the most precious and beautiful woman. I fucked up.
I wasn’t communicating with you as much as I should. I wasn’t talking to you enough. I wasn’t trying hard enough to get to you, to change my life to be with you. I know this now: it’s easy to know after everything is broken.
But for months I was in shock. I pretended nothing happened, that somehow we still had an opportunity, that you were still waiting for me.
Then I sent you a letter and you never replied. I didn’t know if you’d read me or ignored me, but now I know. You wanted to cut me out of your life completely. You closed the door and locked it, and put me outside.
I never, ever expected that. I never thought you would throw me away like that, like so much debris from a past life. But I understand.
I must be a painful memory for you now, some guy who wasted your time and kept you from growing into the new person you are now. I have become extra baggage, or dead weight.
Or just a guy who fucked you up, maybe.
But I can’t know for sure, because you never talked to me about it. You never left the door open for me to see. And I never tried to look in, not deep enough, because I was scared. I was always scared of losing you, all these years too scared to make a commitment with you, and now you’re gone.
I was working this whole time, this past decade, to try to get to you. And now you’re gone. My future is an open and empty plain, a blank canvas.
I don’t know where to go from here. I can only keep moving forward.
I am just so sorry, and so sad that you have locked me out. I will never know what kind of life you have now, your adventures and changes. And maybe that’s good. Of course you will find a new partner, and for me to see you with someone else would kill me.
Someone who is not me.
Maybe you’ll never read these words. But they are my true feelings, and if there is any way I can ever apologize for the way I’ve treated you, to get your forgiveness… ah well. I feel like we cannot even be friends, because our love was too hot, too strange, and too deep.
I hope you find the destiny you deserve. Please know that you are forever in my heart, and I will always love you.
I will always love you.
I’m thinking of a lost lover’s lips
And as a dry spring breeze passes over mine
I wonder if it’s passed over hers.
We sent out a distress signal, in a passive form.
Too late the rocket that carried our message breached the solar envelope of a distant star. We had long died out.
It wouldn’t have mattered. They had problems of their own.
00037: Intaglio Illumination
I saw the photos.
I saw the people.
It’s ice now,
ice and cold,
with no promise of snow.
All things beautiful
live in their neutral-greys
While they sleep, we work.
We work in silence.
We work in darkness.
It’s night now,
black and calm,
with no promise of dawn.
All things beautiful
shine with natural light
I saw the photos.
I saw the people.
I. Denuded winter trees exposing long-abandoned avian ruins, twig architecture.
II. Music like the sound of two broken robots rutting in a scrapyard.
III. The child in me runs in terror from the person I have become.
00035: Persecution Imagined
I’ve been poor. Destitute. Buried under the relentless, crushing weight of insurmountable debt.
I’ve been dead. Clinically dead. Twice. I didn’t learn the lesson the first time.
I’ve been to the bottom, a place where the only lower depth was oblivion.
I’ve been lucky. Or received a fairer share of karmic retribution. Or managed to use the means at my disposal to turn horrors into splendors.
I’ve been a king, a prince among men. I’ve debauched and spread my wealth without care.
I’ve made choices. A great many of them bad. The wrong choices. Choices that led to long periods of suffering.
But I’ve also made good choices, ones that led to prosperity, growth, and advancement.
I’ve gained knowledge.
I’ve learned that impossible is nothing, that this is all a test, a game. There are rules, and they can be broken, but not without penalty.
I’ve learned that everyone must walk their path, and for some it is a well-paved trail and for others it is a bramble-choked trek in the wilderness.
I presume to know no one, since I can’t even comprehend myself.
But onward I walk, and the direction is forward.
(Original render by Moonsia)
John Lennon wanted world peace
but he couldn’t even quell the conflict that split the Beatles asunder.
00033: Long Distance
I had a dream we were together,
then I awoke.
In love, distance is like the relentless waves of the ocean that pound the shores of your resolve.
No matter how strong the seawall, in time erosion will carry it away to some murky depth, eaten by the vast gulf that lies between.
Impotent under the onslaught
of the unrelenting voice of anonymity.
Even Friends we think we ken
do not provide the constant validation necessary
to keep on.
Swallow it whole, swallow the pride.
Consume the ego not only ours
if we have any hope to survive.
"I’m an academic," she said.
"Thanks for warning me."
The door gave way under the relentless shouldering but he hurt himself in the process.
"You see?" he asked. "You’re not alone."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
00031: Eye of Tiger
If you’re not in it to produce the absolute best thing possible, why be in it at all?
00030: “The Fly”
These eyes that do not blink,
these trappings the very definition of your “modern cool”.
and my wings
A life in constant motion
I do not sleep with these
over some savory invisible morsel.
I am the fly
and you want me to die.