non abbastanza bravo
Currently listening to The Birth and Death of the Day by Explosions in the Sky, a group I haven’t listened to in a very long time. It makes me think of the life I never had - a life that I’ve gone on about, but can never call my own past, present, or future. My true legacy: a hopeless wanderer, from predicament to paradox. I eventually end exactly where I began.
I will tell the truth tonight.
I am a scared person. I fear not my own death, but how my passing will affect my loved ones. My mouth is encrusted with the remnants of bitter venom I have spewed throughout my real life. All talk and absolutely no action. I used to think, I am all energy and no meaning. That isn’t true, I’ve come to find; I have, in fact, been drained of energy. What does that leave me with? I lack energy, meaning, action…. All I have is this damned mouth that runs away like a naive child; it gets into trouble eventually with different people of different backgrounds. “Sta’ zitto! Oh, you stupid child! Look what you’ve done to yourself.” That’s what I say to myself subconsciously, without fail. Yet…. I am so self-aware. Is there such a thing as a subconscious if one is always conscious? Even in dreams, those phrases overwhelm me like silent waves along the jetties. I am trapped, I am spinning, and I am drowning. I wake; drenched in what seems like the very salt water cage I was encased. It is my own sweat. Lord, give me strength. I am not a strong enough person for what you have in store for me.Who would marry me? Who would take an oath under God to spend their life with me? Who would lay with me each night? Who would raise a child with me? Who would adore watching me age? Who would never mind taking care of me? Who would even…. who would even look at someone like me fondly or with admiration? Who would be willing…. no…. Who would be proud to call me theirs? “Your life is my life; my life is your life. We are one life and two bodies. Will you share this one lifetime with me? Will you do me the honor of sharing this life with me?”
My heart breaks as I type this. All I want are prayers to fill my mind, but they aren’t coming to me anymore. They’re not here anymore. Please don’t tell me I’ve lost them again.
God, you give me these chances. Why? You know as well as I do that I am not long for this Earth. My heart is old; my soul is tired; my mind is gone. Please, help me. Help me to understand what my meaning is. Help me to find comfort. Help me to endure whatever lies ahead. Help me. My life lays not in my own hands.( All images and writing copyright © 2008 CarlinaShots )
