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Icarus's blog: "I need a drink."

created on 09/14/2006  |  http://fubar.com/i-need-a-drink/b896
I blinked and realized the TV had been on nothing for 3 hours. After all my favorite shows had come and gone. I really wish instead of all this, I had been diagnosed with something terminal. I've been going to restaurants, diners, cafe's just to hear other people's voices, but the downside is staring straight at an empty booth. I don't know what to tell you, if you don't already know why. How many of your greatest fears have you faced in one night? How many arrows from an unkind can you suffer? How much betrayal can you cram into a day? A month? I just want to crawl I just want to sleep I just want to ball up, and dissapear. But they won't let me. God it hurts so much... no, I'm not bringing him into this... not yet. It's like constantly having your heart ripped out and fed to you. I've lost all drive, all confidence, all shelter. I've lost all sense of me. I've lost me. And the only comfort I have- is wise words from my brother confused words from my father hurt words building like plaque around the heart... strangling me. Shutting me out. It's not enough. And it never will be. I wish for sweet oblivion. Better to have never have loved at all. Better to have never dreamed at all. Better to be still, in the empty dark. Take this life. And may it stand as a constant vigilant memorial of this callous miserly torture. Damn it... damn me too. DAMN ME TOO! Job may have lost everything in a childish bet between god, but at least those things didn't remove themselves willingly DAMN ME! SCORN ME! SMITE ME! at least then I could blame you instead of me. ... At least then I'd know it was undeserved and alien. That's not even what I want... I want to be healed. But I haven't the first idea on how. Love? Family? Fortune? What would the enlightened one do? We all need to be loved. We all want to be treated kindly... I'm not even sure I understand those words any more. I'm just... I'm not... What am I now? What have I? Where do I? Did I? Will I? Am I? Quite lost. Without a map. No longer able to acknowledge what a path or a map is. I am a man reborn into nothing, holding nothing, held by nothing but this deliberate pervailing emptiness. I am but a shadow, stabbed thrice through the heart, and left to face this godless, loveless void alone. Am I... What am I... I close my eyes, and let out a deep mournful sigh. Another fleck of my spirit left to rebound on the walls and cake over the chipped paint. Because there is no "one". There is no "why". Only the white void, and I.


My old lord returns, riding the winds of my lonely heart. His name had something to do with scalding dessolation. Empty morningtides, and frustrated nights. Of little substance, but plenty of emotion. Webs of deceit, threads of desperate terror. Woven in the tapestry of my issolation. Thin spindly legs of the master wrap around my throat. But who is the craftsman of my bound perdition? Is it the man in the still pond water casting pebbles? Or something of a deeper mist, something foreign. I wonder. Will I disappear in the emptiness of that gently creeping vapor? Dragged lovingly into tender inundation. To where will my restless soul vanish? In fear eternal, lonliness infinite, or afflicted absolution?
Maybe I've been sitting in my house alone, singing my favorite songs a bit too much. Maybe I'm waiting for the right one, instead of looking for her. Maybe I'm a loveable perfectionist. Or maybe I just hate myself. How much reevaluation am I going to put myself through here? How much destruction and reconstructing will take place in the coming months? Will I get to see the crystal blue ocean, and lush paradise of my dreams? Or the same four, dirty, walls. What will tomorrow bring? What will tomorrow destroy? Will this ever go away? Will I ever be happy? Was I ever happy? Will my fingers, ever wrap around that ineffable invisible dream of mine? What do I want? And what did I do to deserve having it taken from me before I ever had it?
I remember when I used to be something. When I used to believe in someone. What I need is a good long scream into the face of madness. The face of whatever force is behind my life. Put my fingers in his face, and wrench his head back. Some fair shot at getting out of here alive, and partially in tact. Somewhere to be. Something safe. Something sane. Take me someone safe. Where...one... What do I even want to say? Where do I begin? When do I get to say when the hurting stops?
Ever have a dream you were sleeping your whole life. Walking through a hallway that went as far as your heart. With doors with no keys. You try every knob for a while, and eventually just give up, spending your energy instead making up songs to the rhythm of your slippered feet. It won't ever mean a thing. Ever woke up alone Quietly fearful of the twilight aberrant world around you. Footfalls in the frosted clovers outside your wet window. A man with a tattered smile, and a promising hat taps at the glass. His ratty smile and clever eyes guarantee adventure into realms unknown a trip through the looking glass a venture through the everdark ether. And I wouldn't even have to pack my overnight...or come back for that matter. I guess I could go along with that. But I think I'll take a rain check. And pull the covers back over my head. Smiling in my invisible shell. Five is my favorite number.
In this recurrently empty life. In these nights, that smell like spring and feel like december. I just can't see it anymore. I fear I'm not strong enough. Like I'm falling a part. It just won't stop hurting. A piece of toast nailed to a plaque, left to crumble and mold for months. Spirits in the sink. Fools in the mirror. Unpayed bills on the counter. Sick. To the stomach. To the pit. To the hounds. Sick to that dead, cold, iron weight in my chest. That only goes away, for a flicker, a moment. Tiny devices pulse, dogs bark at phantoms, all in the hope... for one brilliant peaceful ephemearal eternity that you're reaching out to me. For another moment, for another hour, for another day, depends on how much of me you can endure, before breaking down, I'm whole again. Maybe I'm not strong. Maybe I'm needy. Maybe... Maybe I love you with all of me. Without you, I am a shell. A husk. The dead skin has to be burned off. The chrysallis has to be purged. For the sake of me. For the sake of you. It's just... do I have to do it alone? Can I not feel your breath on my pierced, tingling skin? Can I not see through this shroud of empty to your loving smile? Can I not feel your fingers wrapped around mine inside these frosted manacles? Is love not enough? Is empty not enough? I lost sight of the dream in the dark. I lost words of wisdom in the enormous echo. I lost the will to cry for help to the chattering of teeth. I lost you to me.
There is no place for man, the new god. No place. No doubt. No fear. Views of a fall. Head first into waiting arms. Cradling and carrying you gently to where you belong. It might take some time. You think you can walk faster, but, everyone's afraid to let you. Rest son. You've had a long flight on a dirty road. Littered with gravel, and cold mist-pregnant green leaves. You're not in love. You're not a celebrity. You may have been. Several times. But you're not right now. Let them carry you. Close your eyes. But not because you're tired. Not because the cool rain has started falling. Not because the sun blinds us from our destination. Because you're tired of talking to clouds resembling familiar shapes. Resembling the only things you ever held onto. Dissapearing into white lonely vapor. You're safe from the fall now. Close your eyes. Let the hands carry you down these busy streets. With any luck, you'll be allowed to walk soon. With that same weary smile. That same pack over your shoulder. That same dirty gravel littered road. But this time with better arch support. Only you. Nothing with everything, in nowhere.

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