The well

Courageous ramblings

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One thing I know I have acquired with time, writing on this blog, and meeting wonderful people, is courage. Courage to accept my needs, to be who I want to be, to express my true feelings.

Courage to stop hiding my weaknesses. It's easy for me not to judge people, but predictably I'm the most cruel judge of myself. And this is why it took me so long to be where I'm at right now. Who I am, as a whole, is perfectly presentable, functional in society, productive in the work place. It's the bits and pieces, the strays… So well hidden, but at some point, it was bound to crumble, the nice image, the character I thought I had to be. Not exactly playing a part, but not being totally true either. Real life reality tv.

If I have made one mistake, a real one, it's to have silenced and killed my emotions, hidden my feelings, my humanity, from my children. Anguish, anxiety, pain, sadness, love. Not to show when I am moved, troubled. And I look at them, and see them struggling to do the same, and to a certain degree, they succeed. I cannot say I am ashamed, because I didn't really know what I was doing. But I am sad. So fucking sad. I just hope it's not too late.

Six weeks ago I had built up enough courage to tell him it was over. Tell him I am leaving soon. I had been thinking about it for years… years. Never again in my life will I let things go this far because of fear and lack of courage. But there is still more where it came from. Courage. I intend to use it.

Courage to let love, happiness, peace touch me. Things I never really believed I deserved. Weather I get to experience them or not in the future, my future life, at least I will have given myself the chance. I jumped… Not to a certain death, as I though I was, but to a certain life. Courage I have found in you, that come to read here, and you that I read. I want to live man, just live and stop always being so fucking afraid. Whatever I think I lack, whatever I think I am not, whatever I think I can't do… Whatever happens… I have this. Courage.

 

Coming together

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When I started to write here, I was no one. I wasn't dead, but not alive. Throught the years though, I've always been swan_pr. That's not really another me. In my mIRC days I was Valhalla. Then swansong. Then swan_pr, since 1998. But I have been others as well.

This weekend I will delete my myspace page, even though it's a swan_pr space. I don't need it, don't use it. And my old hotmail accounts sporting my other me's. 

I will keep my platform27 account, but will not post new things there either. Things I have been posting there are me as well, and I don't see the point in putting them anywhere but here, even though it's a bit different from my usual stuff. It's another form of expression, but still very much who I am.

People who have met me outside of this blog know that I am not different, not a character, not just a nickname. I don't have to step out of character in my every day life. Here and there, I am whole. Keeping separate pages and nicknames have done nothing good, nor bad. It hasn't brought me anything at all.

The one person I am here, I've always been inside. But only in the last year have I let myself accept my true nature and show it to the people that have known me from before I started this blog. Most of them have welcomed my new found peace with myself. Some still wonder who the hell am I.

I don't care. I don't feel the need to separate online and offline anymore.

…and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
Under wandering stars I've grown
By myself but not alone
I ask no one

…and my ties are severed clean
The less I have the more I gain
Off the beaten path I reign
Rover wanderer
Nomad vagabond
Call me what you will

But I'll take my time anywhere
I'm free to speak my mind anywhere
And I'll never mind anywhere
Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home

-Wherever I May Roam (Hetfield/Ulrich)

not. a lot. much.

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I'm in a nolifeland. I feel as though I don't exist, at this very moment. Invisible, unreal. I cannot even say lost or floating or… anything, since I am not real. I don't occupy any space tangible.

I'm supposed to be somewhere that doesn't exist yet. I'm here where I've been gone from. I'm a ghost in my own life. An ex me. A used to be me. Living, smiling, working, cleaning, fucking… Dreaming. Too much.

Consciously I've severed ties that had no reasons to be anymore. What I didn't expect was the wait. I thought. I thought I was setting myself free, when in fact I just built the meanest prison I've ever known, I've ever lived in.

I was counting the days. I am now counting the realities. The fears. I have to stay for now, I have to do my time, eat the bread, mop the floors. I hear the keys tingling, hanging from his belt.

I'm so fucking sick and tired of being sick and tired. Of myself. Of time eluding me, having nothing to offer me but more waiting. And as the days pass, I start to question the reality of what I've done. What if it was only in my head, what if I never really said what I said, what if by staying I am erasing the very real moment I've created and taken charge of and made happen?

But I know… I know it's only right now all this. My life has never been this temporary. And I've seen… what it can be. What it WILL be. From the top yes, I've seen. It's burned in my memory. And regardless of how shitty I feel right now, I KNOW.

It was real. It has happened. And when the time comes, I'll be ready.

In the mean time, let's get the crappy decorations up and pretend for a little longer shall we? 

Undone… climbing?

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Trenches were a refuge (a place to catch my breath)

Trenches were respite (a place to lower my head)

Trenches were silent and calm (a place to hear)

Trenches were hiding depths I couldn't see (a place darker than the shadows)

Trenches have become hill sides, mountain slopes, deep valleys.

Trenches have swallowed me

Realities

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Led Zep - Babe

 

So many thoughts I'm trying to carry through. It used to be of pain, loneliness, my inadequacies, my insecurities. It used to be about the then and some now. A lot of now actually. I haven't been able to focus or concentrate much lately. It's like I've fallen out of touch with my head.

There's something there. I wonder, maybe it's just because I've dealt enough. I've examined enough. The things that I was looking into. Trying to understand. Maybe all I had to understand I have. I used to feel drowned. Life was begging to quit. So I looked. And tried to pull myself out by dealing. Admitting. Facing. What's left might be asking to be put to rest.

Familiarity. As though I do not want to quit the comfortable surroundings of my depression. I don't need a fucking doctor to tell me what it was. And it all rested on one single line. One single phrase. Oh the paths I took to get here.

Now I am looking at new thoughts, new feelings. The unknown. I have no idea how to deal with these. It's easy to talk about the most painful emotions, when it's all you know. I'm all talked out about them. I'm left speechless before the new.

Hope. Love. Happiness. Fuck I'm getting sappy. Hope I now have. Happiness I will get, bursts of light, moments, that's fine.

Love. That's fearsome. To recognize my need for it. Nothing special there… maybe. But how can I ever understand, accept this? To want it. Want it so fucking bad that I'm leaving everything else behind? I might never get it. I might miss the rest of what I have. But I will not… I will not die without giving myself the chance to live with the possibility.

I don't even know how to dream about this. How to write, create, be inspired. I'm afraid. Paralyzed. It's right there, on the verge of knowledge, I hang, I hover. I'm letting go without knowing if there ever will be something else to grasp.

I miss being able to touch the intangible, caress ghosts and float above my well. I want to dive back in, regardless of the cold. But I won't. As with all my hurdles, my changes, my insanities, I will embrace this moment, try to make the most of it. This is real. This I can touch. I can smell. That might be the most frightening thing of all. Reality.

 

Found

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Things have changed. I have. Found.

For everything to make sense it had to change. Another day and it could've taken an entirely different direction.

This moment, this second. When I clicked send. I'm not one to argue. I know it was definite, as definite as the converstion. As definite as the 80 days separating me from the destination I set upon when I took the turn.

I don't need to be reminded of the reasons. I don't need to reminisce. I don't need to convince or persusade. It was sent, along with all. With everything.

Just enough smells, just enough light, just enough sounds remain. What matters.

What can one do on the brink of death? What can one say to be saved? Look inside. And see. Because it's all there and it's ok to acknowledge.

Who can one pray to when even echoes don't sound familiar? The Past. And all the light will spill upon forgotten, obliterated and annihilated demands needs thoughts wants.

I walk a lighted path. As unknown and unfamiliar as it is, no wrong turns, no dead ends. This path belongs to me, always has. 

 

Feet on the ground

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It's such an odd feeling to not know what life holds for me at this very moment, yet to know that it holds so much more than it did yesterday.

I'm numb, then hurt, then elated, then insecure, then determined.

Mostly, I think, I think this is coming… Freedom.

In thought, in breath, in being. In thought

mostly I think, I think this is coming… Light 

Everything is a possibility, never a certainty.

That is beautiful. That is freedom.

 

 

Weekly offering

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Yes,all to:

L'écume des blogues

Now!!! 

—oOSOo—

I just didn't want to to this tonight. Didn't have the energy. Inspiration is always there though, at the tip of your words.

—oOSOo—

As I think about what I've been writing here since the beginning, the changes, the stories, fictional and not so fictional, I realize that everything was a premise for what is to come. A kind of rain check on the inevitable, a silent yet violent therapy.

I haven't lived my life through my blog, rather, I lived because of it. Or resuscitated. Which ever it is, nothing else could've prepared me better. Will I ever be ready is another question. I guess not. Never.

I'm feeling the physical effects of the extreme emotional stress I've been under and it scares me. That alone should be enough warning. 

Also, denying myself of all the love I need to give and receive has made me a very bitter and angry person, and I don't like to hang around too long in my head these days. I miss that.

Despite what everyone has been telling me, I still cannot convince myself that I deserve, that I am worthy, that I am allowed. To. Anything.

It would be easy to blame. To point fingers. But I refuse to do that. In the process though, I have to fucking stop scourging myself. And just move on. Move the fuck on.

The ground has never been shakier. Yet, I'm willing to make one more step. And another one. And another one. 

 

Drawn maps

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I would like to forget. Forget when, why.  Forget who I've become. The paths I've taken. But these paths, these choices are forever sculpted in my flesh. Not really a burden, as they bear no weight. Rather a basso-rilievo, a map drawn on crumpled paper. No way to forget. Only to look back and understand. Try to.

There is no big red arrow telling me "you are here", but I have a good idea of where I'm standing. It's the now that bothers me. The then is where it belongs, in the past. The now doesn't take me anywhere, it grounds me. Why is it that we always either look back or ahead? Why is it that the now get so little of our attention? 

Often I will say "we always have a choice". And even though I believe this to be absolutely true, I've come to despise its meaning. It's not about regret for making a certain choice. It's about looking back and seeing how these choices lead me here. It's not about the big one, the one at the end of a long road, but about the smaller ones, the many that we face and make in a split second. The ones we think inconsequential.

Hindsight is a bitch.