Little Friends by Darren Rawlings
Ah I really like this.
Another sound on the winds,
Another playful sin,
another scent in the air,
Another secret pray,
another reckless dare of stolen glances and stares, more roads to walk, more “Here’s” and “There’s” and minds caught to unaware of simple truths of deep seated roots,
Another day in the cold,
another letter to bend and fold,
Another heart to break and mold,
Another reminder of being too old,
Too far gone, to far from who we are or were, were you ever her?
Were we ever truly friends or did you always have this plan, this end, the change to the wind, this death attack from within, a way to leave and win, the need to not be my friend? Was it always going to end up like this?
Why isn’t it 5 o’clock yet? We’re planning a Michael Jackson dance-off for Angela’s last night at the Lab and I can’t wait for it to start.
Of all things in this world I fear life and death the most and of those two I fear life the most. So many little things can mutate, grow and feed on ones soul. So much can go wrong, and will go wrong or just not work, which I have come to learn are two different yet similar things. In life the action of doing what’s good, best or right can end in the worse of ways. But of all things that I hold dear I hold dear life.. Even if I’m not doing this life thing the right way.
I draft through shadows just to here my name and realize that the shadows are people…If life is a great machine than from time to time… In fact most times I find myself disconnected… The fog.. Haze… Black clouds… Or whatever… Gather around me… it hollows me out until I feel nothing but the cold helplessness it presents to me… then comes the sleepless night… and restlessness… and a mind trapped… stuck on unfocused… and I reach out for help just to panic and weep… I claim defeat before this manic diseases… because the twitching and the fidgeting… Over thinking… and the thoughts that keeps me kept so far away from.. everyone at any given time.. is taking its toll one.. but what can be done.. My mind feels as if it is falling apart.. Like a black hole of thoughts as tales and hurts and lies and all the goodbyes that outweighs that dwindling hellos… as everyday becomes a yesterday and as it does I come closer and closer to being just another crazy nobody… I live with the weight of my mind and all that is in it… because for every creative moment I have there are times of billions of dark days…
I wake up and it all comes rushing in; the the thoughts, all the memories, all the fears all rush in.. All at once.. I fight them off as best as I can… I fight them off just enough.. Just enough to hold back the tears.. To hold back the crippling doubt and pain.. and I survive the first wave…
The second wave.. that hits seconds after the first.. are all the worlds my mind crafts.. All the stories of all the person.. All the screams to be heard from all their voices.. Like a trillion crowded football stadiums… Of voices all speaking…
Then wave three hits.. All the guilty.. All the pain.. All the “What ifs”.. And doubt but enhanced.. And powerful.. And I fight myself.. Because at all point… Just three seconds into my day… Even before whatever crap life and fat and my day decides to throw at me I am ready to just curl into a ball and sleep.. Never to wake..
Most days.. I can stand.. But most days I just give in.. And wait until I have a reason to get up..
I am a prisoner of mind.. Of my pain.. Of my creativity.. Of the weight that makes up my life.. And it’s all so overwhelming.. And all so unless.. And sometimes I wonder if since it only gets bad.. And worse.. Then what is the point.. I drown daily and learn to swim through the torrents of just existing just to drown again..
Then the three seconds pass and I push it down and start my day.. Constantly pushing down the rising tides of my ever thinking mind.. Just to end my day.. With those sand thread seconds.. Those same three waves..
I sleep.. And the dreams are hell and I wake.. No much time pass.. I toss and turn and aches.. And sleep long enough to wake at the start of my day.. To face all the thought.. Memories.. Pains.. And more.. Even before I face a world I don’t really understand.. One that seems to don’t or can’t really see me…
Everyday it gets harder and harder to fight and I fear that one day ill slip into my mind.. Never to return.. Or give in to the darkness that assures me daily that I am nothing, worth nothing.. That I am all the thing that is said about me.. “Just listen to the masses.. For the few are still blind.. And the ones you warned.. The ones you told that once they see you their hearts too will fill with hate.. Became what you warned then they would.. So the few.. The ones that back you.. Your allies.. All will fade from your life.. Just look around and you will see how they silently flee” it says to me.. I fear giving in to those fears and.. Seeing the logic in not going on..again..
I fight.. I try.. But since everyone has their problems.. Who am I to have the right to cry and whine.. So.. Never mind.. You know what.. I’m fine..
Once upon a time… A phrase that launched a thousand tales most of which ending with some happy or better outcome: the poor girl who lost her shoes and gained a princes, the wooden boy made with love who became real, the kids that got lost and found the strength to defeat a hidden foe, the boy and his beans, the mermaid and her wishes, the sleeping girl who woke to find true love and so on and so forth… So what makes this story any different… Well A) this story is real and B) there is no happy ending..:
I once had starlight formed into beauty that was invisible to all but me; You see most would just look upon her and saw nothing special, nothing of worth because all they saw was her wonderful light… And though they would never admit it they were jealous of her shine.. Because she was special and all they could be at their very best was like everybody else… One day we saw one another.. I mean really saw one another: beyond the construct and concepts that we all seem to become on each others life. We looked into each other’s eyes and we saw beyond the defenses, the roles we assumed in trying to get by in a world that didn’t quite get us and in seeing one another truly for the first time we found in each other a kindred spirit. A long lost friend that we didn’t even know we had lost.
Then life got in the way. And we drifted farther and farther apart… Then one day.. I looked up and she was like everybody else just with one differences; the was hate in her heart for me.. Where there was once love, respect, a clear understanding of who I was and what I stood for not lived a beast of hate…
And I swear everytime I look into her eyes something in me gives up in dies… I won’t get all dramatic and say its pieces of my soul, though the pain makes me feel as much but I believe it to be every bit of me that was once apart of “us” finally realizing that in this reality she is nothing more than another person in the long line if person who hates me and has decided to give up and die…
So why tell this small fractured tale? Because at night, when I see the stars I think of her in secret and wonder if she does the same because though she will never read these words nor hear when I whisper into the night saying “I missy best friend” I need these words and the meanings and feelings warped up in them to leave my heart forever more so that the me of “us”; Starlight and I could finally and full die…
I have a light. And it warms me. It makes me do my best. It cherishes my pain and love, my good and bad, my crazy and ugly.. And if I am to bathe in this light of enlightenment and rapture must let go of all the chains of past hurts and free myself from the prison of guilt that hold me back which is the reason so these words… The Starlight once told me to get go, to take her hand and ascend above the hellish pain I carried as a sign of strength, as fuel for the fire the kept me going, as the only thing I knew would never change.. I slipped into my darkness and her hand slipped from me and when I emerged again there was pain in her heart and hate… I abandon her… And thighs before I would have lived everyday reminding myself of the pain so to prove that all I can do is hurt I will now use what happened as a reminder, as a reason to remember accountability…. I have a light, a life, a reason to fight