Addendum : A Cup Somewhat Full

After a certain amount of walking, your body doesn’t recognize what is walking and what is sitting anymore.  What I mean is, evidently I rose at some point and began walking again.  So here I am, pushing branches away from my face, moving forward, going forward.

The last branch I push opens up a clearing.  I slip a bit, and I detect a citrus smell, but that quickly dissipates.  I rub my hands together to remove whatever substance is on my hands from pushing leaves and bark to the side, I stick them in my pockets I take them out.

Straight ahead, a pool of water.  The pool has a reflection in the middle, on top of the water, not beneath it.  I can’t tell what is creating the reflection  — there is light in the sky, but the sun, I can’t see it.  Just light, although dim, as though the sun is setting or rising.  The wailing noise is in the distance, somewhere.  It could be a small engine running.  It could be a swarm of bugs or birds expressing their displeasure, or their indifference.  I mean, my ear isn’t trained to discern these types of things.

At some point I end up on the bank (if you can call it a bank) of this pool.  There are trees on all side.  And there’s me.  I mean, I guess this is all that needs to be here, but for some reason, I’m not sure.

I look down at my watch again.  Still 5:30.  No movement.  Must’ve stopped. It’s hard to tell how tired I should be.  Many times I gauge my exhaustion by the time on the clock.  I mean, numbers and arms and ticking noises shouldn’t cause me less or more tiredness. In this case, it won’t have an effect anyway.  Only the silence. The silence makes me drowsy, and gradually, it lulls me.

My right eye sees a shape underneath the water.  It could be a jar.  The tattered label on the jar could read XXX.

As I go out, I really hope to myself that I haven’t made a mess of things this time.  I really do.

Addendum aka The Doctor’s Office : Act 2

With everything that has happened to me in my life, I ought to deserve (yes, I am OWED) a truckload of the good stuff. Yet I seem to be back in these offices with increasing regularity, playing pitch and catch.

I mean, i’m back in offices of this type, but not necessarily the SAME office, but I’m gonna face it– they’re all the same and serve the same purpose, as long as I can get what I need, see, and I don’t worry about that one anymore. I’ve got it down pat.

It starts off something like this:

“So, how have you been doing lately?”

“Oh, not so well — it seems I’ve had a bit of a relapse.”

“Hmmm … well, can you tell me about it?”

And then I go on some long tirade about how I was neglected this one time when I was six and it popped back in my head when I was eating a cheese sandwich one day or that my 5th grade teacher had a vendetta for me and turned my classmates against me for the better part of that school year, yadda yadda.

See, none of it matters if I make it seem that it DOES matter to me, regardless of weather it’s my kitten dying or the sun staying behind the clouds too long one afternoon, I don’t need to justify it anymore. If I seem like a reasonably honest person, and I seem to be reasonably in need of some treatment outside of telling stories within the office once a week, then I’m going to get some pills.

But I really think it’s time for you to know I’m turning these pills into what I want. I am not interested in the pills — this is kids stuff. SOME people like them, but for me, eh, they don’t seem to do much. I’m holding out for something better, and I made a pact with myself that once I went to this “better place”, I would do everything in my power to remain there via whatever means necessary. Well, it took me some time to figure out how to do that, but you know, even the toughest nuts will crack if you apply enough pressure for enough time. I really think that.

Addendum : When I Wake Up, Down

It’s no surprise that I have shut down to such a degree as a result of my journey, that when I awaken and attempt to arise, I go right back down. The moment of confusion, glancing at the wrist where no watch resides, squinting to see the clock, and then searching the walls for a calendar. And then the sudden striking fear that weeks have passed by in mere moments, that someone robbed me of what I am owed, and the burning sensation rising up from my chest to that specific point right between my eyes — and then the “reality” that sets in as I realize, yes, I did land at the point in time in which I was supposed to land, and yes, nothing is really out of whack in my personal time-space continuum. I mean, this is part of the process. Not to say I welcome it, but it’s part of the process.

I’m groggy, but not too groggy to hear what’s going on outside my door: my roommates, with their random musings about nothing important, with their lazy days trailing in to lazy nights; I can see the flicker of the tube as if it was in front of me — if I wanted it in front of me — spewing random nonsense towards un-awaiting heads, causing not even one synapse to fire. Yes, this is what I deal with on a daily basis.

So I turn my attention from that and toward the window, toward the all-to-bright Miami sun, with its remnants of days too hot and nights to unenthralling to coax me from my sanctuary. And I turn back towards my pillow, take a nose dive, and let it all go.

Yes, I fall back asleep, because I know it all too well, see.

Addendum : My Latest Move

I completely neglected to mention what my latest move is! Now, you may ask, what is the reason for spilling the beans in the first place?

I’m moving away from the things that are really bothering me in my life, and for that I am proud, joyed! I have made a list, and it might have been documented by someone, hard to say, and on that list are things that will be noted, then scratched and finalized. No longer a nuisance, see. I mean, if you allow things to continually be a nuisance, how can you really continue your term as a functioning creature in this very world? I, for one, find it hard, very, really.

So from this moment forward, you and then I will see changes in and outside of myself that may very well determine the fate of myself and quite possibly that of others, see! My roommates will surely not notice any difference, even as they are up in the morning and chirping and laughing and being dishonest with themselves, as they live their lives that are surely jokes to practically everyone who is not them! I will do my best to not give away my secret to them, because as you know it is not in my best interest, for me to change my current situation, to let them in on any fantastical revelations which would surely improve the quality of their lives and everyone around them, the hims and hers they deal with often and those very people who I have no interest in assisting.

I will add, you see, that if I consider myself one day to be kind enough to reveal this revelation in order to improve their situation, I will, but I will have to give that more than quite a bit of thought. I mean, these are the ties that bind, and they bind tightly!

Addendum : In the Waiting Room

In Miami, there isn’t much to do outside of waiting, waiting around for something to happen. Inevitably it will, but you’re in for a wait. Days at a time. Most of the time, even when the weather beckons, it’s not even worth going outside. Because what you end up finding – people without goals, morals, untanned skin – won’t comfort you through the night or ultimately make your stay any better. If that stay is temporary, fine, you just burn a few days. But if you’re in it for the long haul, well, good luck. You’ll really need it.

See, it depends if ‘people’ are your thing. Some people get in to social interaction, or actually feel they need it to survive. Not me. Too much baggage. I mean, if I need to talk to someone to tell them what side of the stoop I need them to look toward to pick up my garbage, that’s one thing. Or which doorbell to ring when they’re delivering my pizza. But that’s not social interaction as much as social necessity. You can call it what you want. It doesn’t mean very much either way.

And, either way, you’re gonna bake in this place. Like a pumpkin seed. It affects you in more ways than one. I can’t think of a way in which i’m not affected. If you have layers to shed, start doing it before you get here. If you don’t, you’ll quickly see what I mean.

I’m in it for the long haul.

Addendum : Out of a Relationship

Outside of a relationship, I sometimes don’t know how to deal with girls. They take up a lot of time either way. You might as well get what you want from them, because they’re getting what they want from you.

See, I really believe that, but I don’t tell nobody. And there’s a reason for that: it’s called “social injustice”, and some people believe in it, but I don’t. I’m 31 years old and I don’t believe in much, but I do believe in things I can’t see, and I can’t see when someone is trying to take me for a ride. I used to like rides, but one time I got taken for a ride I will never ever forget. It was by this girl. It took me places I never thought of going, and in retrospect, places I probably never should have been. Because, and I really believe this, when you go to hell when you’re still alive there really ain’t no coming back. You touch on this thing called “social injustice” and you don’t come back, and not because you don’t want to come back, because maybe you do, or maybe you don’t.

Anyway, when you’re in a relationship, you’re getting taken, so you might as well balance that out by taking a chunk yourself. It’s life’s natural balance. Don’t fight it.