Dear me:

1: 20 A.M., July 20th. I feel myself SLIPPING, into a place where help does not HELP me and I can’t SCREAM for it or for anything else for that MATTER. I can bear this a while LONGER, I say, but is that the truth? My TRUTH? Do the raindrops that fall onto my car window to signify my falling? My CRASH, my collision? SILENCE seems to be my only ACTION lately, silence of nothing, my only memory of the old me lingers in front of my face but I don’t DARE grasp it for fear of losing my CURRENT state of being. Holding on to that tightly. Was there ever ANOTHER me? Was there ever another TIME, another situation besides the ONE I am in now? No remorse will be felt for me; because no one is able to see the trouble I am now in, the BLINDNESS of their eyes and MINDS makes that trouble GROW in confidence… I have lately been FINDING it hard to see clearly, like there is always a mist of vapor, FOG, before my very eyes. Do you see it to? I thought not. And what does this mean to you all NOW? It does not because I will not let it. ECHOING off of these walls around me, my castle, are the wrongs of my being, they bounce back and will not leave me to sit in my non existent peace. AND YET, still this heart BEATS, although carefully, so it does not make more noise than need be made. I cannot actually CLASIFY this as fiction or and AUTOBIOGRAPHY of both truths and failures. “What have I become, my sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end…and you could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down, I will make you hurt.” –JC. And I am still HERE! Maybe not above you or below you or even in front of you WHISPERING, but among you nonetheless. And I have been STUNG once again, but that is my sanity left from another , maybe better time of life. DO YOU FEEL IT? DO YOU FEEL THAT IN YOUR SOUL, YOUR VERY OWN SELF? A guitar solo, a bass solo, a drum solo, its never the same NOTE being played by those HANDS, in this head of mine. Those hands… the ones that have touched a thousand lives, a thousand roads, a thousand moments, a thousand places, a thousand thoughts? I’d give up all of my moments from my inner thoughts to you for the rest of my life, wouldn’t I? Then they would no longer be my burden. NONSENSE! Words you say. I say that we are one in the SAME. I say that these words were thrown together by a LOST one. LOST? You will ask, but I am not sure I know how to tell. Yes, I might answer, yes. Yes, lost to an addiction? Lost, to an inner conflict or an outside influence? WHAT CONFLICT have you ever suffered from? A death. A loss of faith. No beliefs. No home. No family. No words? PRETENDING to be something that is not the real you. ME? Me, I am only here asking the questions, answering the questions, floating through time serious on the outside and harmed on the inside. BUILD YOUR WALL. Harden yourself. Don’t feel it, or give in, the other side says. But I am only here asking the questions, and answering the questions. Reality time, no verse. I guessed you guess I was crazy. Look at this. It does nothing to make anyone feel better. BUT, it may challenge, or stand for a world of defeat. Maybe this is just real life. 1:36 A.M. If I could start over, I would.