Someone said there’d be days like this.

Someone said there’d be days like this.

It’s a certain madness.

The coming on of days, relentlessly break. Themselves over my head like the tide’s rushing waves. Crash and collapsing on the sorrow-filled haze that swiftly becomes my own newest now-state; perpetual longing. Days and days. Like some mathematical equation, the series of hours consecutively adding themselves upon one another with exponential unforgiveness; delirious daze. The multiplication of an enigmatic pain. One plus one plus one more, forever. One at a time. Times nine times nine. It never stops and doesn’t care if I like it. Doesn’t ask if I’m ready. Doesn’t let me ask why. Reason and purpose are no longer mine.

Ring around the rosies with my pockets full of worries and the air is growing heavy and it’s good to be alive. Depression is a dance and so I shall, I vow — again again. Oh my oh my, pretend pretend. The dancing floor is riddled with holes but they all lead nowhere. Thousand no’s, thousand maybe’s. Rocks don’t roll. They only bury.

Dance they say. Without a partner, on display and the music is broken and refuses to play but dance dance dance dance anyway. To what. For why. Because because, and heaven lays her head to cry. Though not for me, for what I’m not. A robot in a shrinking box. The moon is laughing at my thoughts. I still can’t find the sense I got that everything will be alright and this will pass like dreams at night.

Am I dreaming? Someone screaming silent tears that wet the sky. A loud distorted lullaby. Waxing, waning. No complaining. Full and empty, dissipating. I wake up mostly twice a day, the rest I close my eyes to stay surrendered blind to pain inside that nothing gives me space to hide.

The why’s and where’s are far behind. Memories; they’re over now. (Down my head to sleep shall lie. Itself, it hurts. It grows in spurts.) So sink me like a sunken bow. The ship has sailed, float on with wow… -less proof that I’m still breathing.


18 responses »

  1. It hurts me to read this! Are you depressed? We sure seem to have to feel a lot, whether it be depression or any other feeling, in order to make our decisions. Until we make a decision, we continue to feel what we need to make that decision. It talks to us, but not the way we are used to interpreting. It is backwards. We become free of our pain when we make a decision that propels us past the grips of whatever it is that causes that pain. Even with loss, there are internal decisions that can relieve the pain and help us cope. Many times we don’t know why we feel a certain way, and that is the greatest opportunity to discover ourselves.
    That is what came to mind. I don’t know if it pertains to what you are feeling, but either way, I hope you may always smile and feel good in life. You are an amazing soul with an amazing mind!!

    • Thank you Travis. As usual, your words carry the unbearable lightness of being, (a great book by Milan Kundera, by the way), but in summation: your perspective is truth. Magnified.

      The deepest feelings are often the most simple, and yet the experience of the emotion is such a complex, perplexing thing…

      It’s uncanny how you describe the uncertain sources of certain sorrows and how greatly these specific kinds of suffering most often lead to biggest discoveries of our inner selves. This is a picture you’ve painted, of my precise place in both space and time. It’s exactly where I am, metaphorically… In the abyss-like depths of uncharted feelings that have suddenly swallowed me whole.

      I’m seldom in this frequency. It goes beyond sadness and escapes my typical tendencies of pinpointing the precise source, processing it, evolving from its truth, and using it as a reference point to know where I stand in general. This is much less like a ‘thing’ and much more like a shift in realities. Hard to quantify, hard to simplify, but there’s something stirring within me. I’m following the leading with bold commitment to the integrity of it, whatever exactly ‘it’ is.

      I find immense power in transparency, as your own deepest journeys and subsequent posts have shown. Nothing makes more sense in this world than an awakened mind remaining awake in the face of unspeakable grief. Only this time, the fact that the grief is unknowable somehow still has me somewhat shaken.

      Thank you for riding the wavelength with me. Truly, it means so much.

      • Growing pains are a good sign. Change is painful, though it is healthy. Focus on the beauty of what you are growing into and accept the pain as affirmation of it. These blogging experiences we have are amazing. When complimented by our own lives, it really makes an impact on our identity. The identity is very stubborn toward change, and that is where the pain may come in. The pain is like propulsion though. Like riding the hot flames of hell upward; how far will you go? It is very interesting that you, I and we are not alone with these shifts in realities. Many people are experiencing this in their own lives and being reborn in a sense. I would say; embrace it!

        • The confirmation SprinklinThoughts shared is a powerful reminder that although you & I almost always find ourselves riding the exact same brainwave through the exact same territories of profound journeying moments in time, this particular soul-revolution is distinctly tied to a movement in the collective consciousness of humanity. It’s so deeply striking to have these deep dark places reflected back to me from great minds, through these gentle spirit-hugs that say ‘you’re on the path, keep going’ …I’m saying all this to share my speechlessness 🙂

          AND DUDE!!!! “Pain is the propulsion.”

          You oughtta copyright that, homeskillet. I’m serious. Talk about heavy revvy… I’m inviting you to allow that revolution to stir within you. See where it leads… If you have the time and feel so compelled, I think a powerful sequel to your recent posts lies in the middle of that energy.

  2. Many around me are (have been) going through this – as if a wave is washing over the entire village. But the crest of the wave has passed and now the members of the village come out and help each other to go on… the villagers are stronger, the village has be cleaned, and another day dawns…
    With (spiritual) love,

    • I find my spirit in a place of “…awww…”

      What a crystallized peace you’ve shared. It touched a deep part of me and I’m still feeling it flow through me… It’s hard to articulate the magnitude of how deeply meaningful these exchanges can be, you know? I created this blog not exactly sure what may come of it, and find myself more grateful with every interaction that I began this journey. When you take time to give a small part of yourself in this way, sharing your heart and perspective, you affirm my own sense that there is a greater purpose behind my decision to share the deepest parts of my heart & soul. “Thank you” feels insignificant, but I offer that anyway and I appreciate your insight.

      And you’re spot-on, by the way. The village must be cleaned. At all costs, we keep moving forward.

  3. On so many levels: wow. A robot in a shrinking box…your rhythm in this is so astounding, it made me feel as if I was watching myself read it, it pulled me in such pure ways, with resonance and echos and compassion.
    There does seem to be so much going on on a big level right now, it is always interesting, and I’m so happy that there are people like you and Travis and so many others who are aware of it, sitting in the middle of the energy with awareness and integrity and fearlessness. Very wonderful, inspiring, and comforting 🙂

    • This response is so meaningful to me that it feels almost like an insult to say anything about how much, exactly, it means to me. Thank you for such powerful thought and energy. I’m touched deeply to know that you felt the feeling of the words in this pure, complete way. That’s incredible. Love vibrations.

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