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alcohol, alcoholics, drugs, faith, fear, fight for life, God, god's love, happiness, higher power, journal, joy, life, marijuana, poems, prayer, sobriety, spirituality, true love, truth, women, work, writing
It’s been quite some time since I sat down and senselessly wrote. So here it goes:
I’m tired. I’m afraid. I am separated from my emotions in a way I’ve never felt before.
I work towards a seemingly endless goal. A goal I don’t even have a name for.
Sobriety? Spirituality? Money? Love? Acceptance? I’m not really sure.
I have dreams, but those dreams seem so unobtainable.
Where do I even start?
I get silent reprieves from nights spent with a few friendly faces,
But then I have to return home only to sit in the dark.
I’m covered in love from someone I want to spend forever with..
But I feel incapable of returning that love with anything like the same fury.
I’m drowning in a time where monotony seems to be washing me down the drain.
I don’t know where to go next. I’m told to do things I love – like write or play.
The ivories feel cold under my finger tips. This keyboard seems to be deepening the pain.
So, I pray. Sometimes that works. It gets me through a few hours at least.
I long for the days when I used to reach for my pipe. When I used to find laughter at the end of a bottle. But the next day would only bring more rain.
The consequences aren’t worth turning back. Losing everything I’m trying to fight for – diligently? More like insufferably.
Sometimes I feel so happy I might burst. Those are the moments I live for now.
But most of the time I feel blank, cowering behind something that’s blocking out the sun.
What is it I’m hiding from? Booze? Weed? Fear? Me?.. Probably.
It’s like I’m just standing on the edge waiting to be pushed off.
It always happens. I find a glimpse of serenity, a smidgen of bliss – only to all be erased by the sickening blows of life.
What do I want to be when I grow up?
I’m more and more becoming like Lennon – I just want to be happy.
But maybe his teacher was right. Maybe I’m not doing it right.
Happiness is a choice. Right?
I think that’s wrong. I think happiness is a facade.
Joy is what we seek. But can joy be something continuous? I guess that’s what I’m trying to find out. So, I guess I’ll keep searching.
And maybe that Higher Power I pray to will show me how to get there. Maybe he, she, it, them will bring me to where I need to be.
But putting in the work to get what I need isn’t exactly my forte. It’s tireless work. Endless, like I said before.. pushing towards an invisible nameless goal.
I’ll figure it out tomorrow. Today, I’ll just rest in the fact that the wind is still blowing and I’m still breathing, and he’s sitting next to me. Maybe that’s enough. Shouldn’t it be?