Tuesday, August 24, 2010

All the anger here, all the pain inside...

Something is very wrong.

My foot is glued to the accelerator, the break disintegrated into nightmare long ago.

I just wanted to cruise along, I just wanted to be happy and relaxed, but now I got sucked into this thing, and I'm just

Rushing rushing rushing rushing
trees, fences, houses, streetlights
rushingrushingrushingrushing
right on past me

as I am rushingrushingrushingrushingforward to this... this thing

This big black, howling, hungry thing.

And right before it, is this moment.

I can feel it coming.

My eyes are watering, begging me, pulling with every thread of desperation I have ever felt, pulling themselves closed, beseeching me to just let them go, just let them shut, let them rest, just let them fall right down and rest there, tired, exhausted, drained, empty, begging, completely desperate. Just let me close.
Just.
Let.
Me.
Close.

Please.

I can see it coming.

My hands are aching, splitting at the bone, pulling themselves away from the wheel, pleading for someone else to take control, to take the lead. Don't leave me hear at the helm of my own life, I can't trust myself, why should you? Don't make me fight through this, I can't, it will wrench me apart either way, so why bother? Muscles retracting themselves, pulling, pulling, pulling away from control, crying surrender, screaming at me to just let go.

Just.
Let.
Go.

I can feel it coming.


This moment, this decisive moment that I am rocketing towards.
This choice.

This choice between closing my eyes for that second, pulling my hands off the wheel and just saying 'OK, consume me, whatever, I can't do this anymore' or wrenching my foot off the pedal. Ripping my soul off of that pedal, shredding the skin, tendons and muscle and bone all exposed, all of me exposed, rip it of to slam raw flesh right back down again, find some trace of determination, some last drop of strength from somewhere, but where? Wherever it is, it's deep down, and drilling into the bedrock of yoruself, not pretty.

So what do I do?

As much as I would love to stay stuck in this moment, as much as I despise every second, I do not have that option. Pausing time, is not an option.

Give up and be shredded, or break out the dynamite and find something, and push into and through this big, black thing.

And even as I rush with all involuntary haste toward it, I cannot choose.

Even as I can see the light gleam in its eyes and feel its breath on my face...

I do not have an answer...

Monday, August 23, 2010

Breathing out joy after breathing in pain

I want to be overwhelmed. With anything.

Joy, love, despair, hope, pain.

Anything but being slowly eaten away by this stress and self-inflicted exhaustion.
And as much as it is permeating me already, and as much as I hate it, I would even prefer frustration.
As long as it's a lot of it.

Basically I want to feel enough to cry, to cry my damn eyes out.
I am tired of wandering around, being tired.
I am starting to talk to myself again, I am dreaming about politics and the men of my dreams (completely literally) and I can hardly keep from screaming at my father.





Come on, shove me into overload, we all know I'm heading that way anyway.