Vicissitudes Of Vacuity

Life is strange. For my birthday I was able to watch myself on national TV. Two weeks later, I stood helpless upon finding out my brother had been shot. Since, my life has become an endless routine of work, hospital, and the roads I drive in between. What can I do to handle such extremes? I wish I knew the answer. The possibilities are out there... prayer, exercise, work, food, alcohol, drugs, fucking somebody, fucking somebody up... what will help? What can I pour in this hole to fill it up? I've spent too much time lately either on top of the mountain or in the valley beneath and not enough on the road in between.

It's all a blur really. I don't remember so much things that happened as much as what I was feeling as things happened. It was a kind of disconnection from the world that I haven't experienced in quite some time. Just walking through my life only paying enough attention to get by. It's a horribly naked feeling, just walking through each day on a precipice and having everyone know why, not sure if they're going to push or pull. My brother has a hole in him that allows everyone to see inside;
I have a metaphorical one. Life is strange.

It was strange how utterly fulfilling a simple act of kindness could be. A pat on the back or a hug became everything to me for awhile. When you have a frame of mind that nothing will ever be OK again a kind word is akin to a rain drop in the desert. But it is not easy to have your most intimate vulnerabilities open to the world.

I cannot explain the terror I feel at being so helpless to change so many things around me. A terror so vivid that it's crippling me from taking care of the things that I can change. As I search the wisdom of myself and others I am unable to find the answers that I seek. There are many paths before me but I do not know which I can take and still be able to look myself in the face at the end. Is it courage or stupidity to walk down a path that will help destroy me and yet aid others? As I continue to push the rock of Sisyphus. I am able to see all the paths but lack the knowledge and conviction to choose one.

So here I sit, helplessly alone in my pain while others sit by helplessly unable to take it away. Some of them are hurting too and I am unable to take their load for them. My mask stripped away, I feel far too weak to be able to offer anything except a smile and maybe a joke. But a small part of me realizes that sometimes that is enough...
and the smile isn't so hard to give.

Until next time, True Believers...
The bottle is empty
And the well is dry
May 2009

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