I have been very sad. I have been avoiding writing because my thoughts are dark. And sometimes I dont like admitting or facing reality and when I write I have no choice but to do just that. But I need to write. I must write.

What else has happened… well he thinks he can play with my heart and my head, thinks I dont know that he has a girlfriend already, that he drinks, that he has a detailed plan of how hes going to save himself. Ill let him believe what he wants, we’re not going to be more than friends but it just makes me more sad to know that the only people that try to get close to me are people that are trying to hurt me.

And while we were at lunch in a restaurant, after I offered him a job, one of my other friends told me that he doesnt get why Im the way I am – why I give and dont expect to receive. He said he would forget me in 2 or 3 years. That I need to find real friends. Funny thing is – I thought we were friends.

I left and texted someone who hasnt talked to me in months – hes ignoring me because about a year ago he found out i cared about him but knew I didnt want to be in a friends with benefits relationship… and he said he knows the feeling of being isolated… and then I got mad at myself for contacting another person who has hurt me while I felt hurt. because then i was upset at both of them.

I dont think its unreasonable to want a shoulder to lean on sometimes. Ive never had friends that would catch me if they knew I was going to fall, Ive never had people who would give without expecting anything in return. And I think that one of the most ironic things about me.

Sometimes I sit very still and I know Im supposed to cry – but I dont pity myself because Im not ashamed and I know Im different in a wonderful way and I think my body ran out of tears years ago. I have everything but I still have nothing. So instead I just stare at blank walls with a blank stare and wonder when my life will drift into its final stage of nothingness. And it makes me sad to know Ive had everything Ive ever wanted, everything Ive been able to conjur and dream of –  except for the one thing Ive always needed – companionship and basic friendship. And Ive realized that this is one of the reasons why Im so outragously good at other things, its how I compensate for feeling alone in the world. Im very social, I see hundreds of people a day, I talk to executives, I laugh, I play, I work with children in youth groups daily, lead volunteer initiatives, but I still feel alone because to all of these people Im just another person but to me, each and every single one of them is a part of my life, a part of me.

Its a cold victory. Like finally reaching the top of the highest mountain and collapsing at its peak because youve realized youve run out of food and blankets. Or like you never even packed them. A very cold victory. Almost as cold as my inevitable death.

P.S. Im not sure how to get my life back to good. Or if there ever was a good to start with in my life (?)

And as I stand here,
A thought breaks the silence.
Who will stand in my place -
When I can no longer demand this service from my eyes?
Who will speak when my tongue has been silenced?
Who will stand by me before I fall?
And in that moment I remember – 

Those who falter do so because they have lost faith in themselves,
A faith that is only renewed by the answers we find within ourselves.
Answers that necessitate silence. 

And I saw my face.
But hidden behind this mask were the faces that represent the countless souls of the many who have invested in making me who I am
– for better or for worst. 

The people I have reached out to and those who have reached out to me.
Those who have stimulated my mind, my body, my soul.
The people I have been fortunate enough to learn with and from -
The people who have nurtured me and those whom I have nurtured.
Those who have hurt and threatened me.
And even the faces I have forgotten. 

Those who just barely brush their fingers against mine as we rush to get where were going
- We exchanged silent looks and move along-
Because time is ticking.
Buses, hall ways, empty streets.
The people living in houses on those streets.
The people living on those streets. 

That is who I am.
And knowing this dispels the fear of loss,
The fear associated with the burning threats and tears presented to me by my eyes,
The fear associated with pain, the pain associated with reality. 

I’m reminded by my reflection that everything is one.
And I’m reminded by a single eloquent voice,
A voice that stands out among others,
That I am not alone. 

 I’ve realized that the amount of light perceived in a room is relative.
That is enough to satisfy me. I wipe away my tears and look at my reflection one last time.

And I stand resolutely.

To finally feel free of the shackles and chains I have willingly carried all these years is confusing. It’s new. It’s enthralling. It’s scary. But it feels right.  Does that make me a slave to this new found freedom? Yes. I think it does. Does that bother me? Not really, as long as I am conscious of my dependence, I have control. As a proponent of justified mutiny, I am only subject to the kings I bring and keep in power. There is a certain amount of beauty in all this, because it’s raw and its true, and I think it’s rare, but I’m going to have to ask around to see. On second thought, asking others is what subjugated me isn’t it? I’m depending on reasoning for this one.

Sometimes I hesitate before I speak, before I ask, before I expose my thoughts, because the invisible scars around my ankles and wrists still sting. The burn reminds me that they’re no longer there – and it pushes me towards proclaiming my identity as I discover it. You either take responsibility for who and what you are, or you ignore what you know to be true and hide behind a curtain without ever hoping to dominate the stage. It’s not so much about the limelight as it is about the meaning and significance found within the expressions of the subject of study – the subject that captures the minds and hearts of its viewers without ever meaning to do so. The subject that shows us what we hope to find within ourselves.   It’s not about winning or losing, it’s about learning, and discovering, and making amendments until you get it just right.

I’ve decided there’s no such thing as shame. I am free.  

Whenever you say you want to be here – I know you don’t – because you don’t try – you’ve stopped reaching out for me. Somehow, that makes this even more valuable to me. It proves that I can do this without you, that I’ve always done this without you.

You never had the answers, I didn’t expect you to. I didn’t want you around because I needed you, I wanted you around because I wanted you. Not the you you pretend to be, not the you they want you to be, but the you you’re discovering along the way. You were my reflection, my shadow, and now you’re gone. But that’s ok.

You were like my other half, the devils advocate in my head, the left hand I forget to use, the smile that comes creeping along when I least expect it to. You were refreshing, now you’re just very far away. Now, I am whole, I’ve learned to reason, and my left hand is almost as steady as my right. Is it wrong to say I’m better off without a shadow, or is that just my impudence pushing you to take a stand again? Is it wrong to say I know you left because you were afraid…

When I called, you said you missed me. As bad as I’d like to, thats hard to believe when you never call back. I don’t believe you anymore, but I’ll be here to listen, to help when you’re feeling lost – because I know what thats like and I know you.

We used to walk together when we were lost. Now  I can see through so many open doors, each leading to a different labyrinth. Sometimes I can hear you calling my name, but you choose your path and now I’ve found mine, there’s no turning back. We might meet at a cross road in the future but that doesn’t mean we’ll be back to where we started. It means we may have a chance to learn from our past, a chance to quickly wave and to move along.

My future is very unclear but someone else has helped me understand that thats ok. The extend to which something is defined is not a direct indicator of its relevance.  I’m thankful for these two lessons. I am free. 

I’m sprawled on the sand,

I catch my breath and stand up to feel it again,

Wave after wave,

Knowing that I have nothing is everything in this world.

It reminds me that I’m alive.

That I am everything.

Water cannot penetrate my skin

It can only wrap around my delicate frame

& draw me closer with its soothing voice, its mighty force,

It slams against me and I’m overjoyed –

It fills my lungs.

And for a shot period,

We are one.

Insightful. Insightful enough to provoke a response in the form of a post.

These are just my thoughts scribbled down for others to read – its not criticism, or a challenge, or bullshit –  just free flowing thoughts.

I particularly like one statement that is made through this post – that women believe there is a distinction between the attributes of humanity and that of their sex. It is one of the many dichotomies that entertain our species. The “need” to categorize everything limit one’s ability to explore and truly discover.

Keep in mind that in stating the following, you have implicitly exemplified the mask that is interchanged with the true face of men while explicitly stating that of women.  Both man and woman are capable of wearing multiple masks or none at all – both extremes necessitate an unbelievable amount of will, where as the intermediate disguises can be conscious, subconscious, or even invisible.  

Deception – like cards – is a game that one can choose to entertain amongst others or amongst oneself. It is a human attribute – some embrace it like one would a crutch. Others forsake it, stumble, and struggle for the chance to finally learn to stand alone. In walking into the fog, we find that which we did not know was there – and therein lays true accomplishment. I couldn’t agree with you more.

And what of the vanity that comes with knowing that you are not subject to the sexual prejudices and social customs that mask humanity – vanity that comes with finding gratification in ones-self (through reasoning and logic, physical and metaphysical means) rather than solely looking for social gratification/surface level gratification and joy?  I find this form of vanity as empowering as it is enchanting in both men and women.

Responses to specific quotes:

“All man has to do is simply to stop seeing the mask, stop reaching for the ideal image, and seek woman no more for her to crumble at his feet.” This statement is not meant for man or woman – rather it is something that should be considered by all of mankind so I’ve altered it to portray my vantage point. All (wo)man has to do is simply to stop seeing the mask, stop reaching for the ideal image, and seek (wo)man no more for h(im)er  to crumble at h(er)is feet.

 I would also say that in seeking others we should opt to see them in their natural and true forms… we should try to see and understand what they exemplify with their mask, while striving to discover what lies beneath it .

“But of course, woman needn’t wait for man at all. If she deems herself able, let her go through it herself.”  I feel that this truly epitomized your post but I disagree in one respect, – - It is not a matter of whether (if) one (man or woman) deems themselves able, rather whether one discovers ones self to be so after defying the confinement(s) (psychological and physical) that they have subjected their existence to.

Insightful.Insightful enough to make me smile.

It wraps around me. It makes me shiver.

It winds up my leg,

And I’m reminded of you.

–dedicated to a friend who has become as elusive as the fog–

I have been really, really sick this past week and the winter semester started at the university .. my classes are great, my friends are amazing, but its hard to get through each day. Mostly because I don’t talk to anyone about it, mostly because no one wants to know, mostly because no one really cares. So I’m going to talk about it here.

 My classes are from 1PM – 10 PM and that really, really, sucks. I’m taking more than 18 credits. I’m working 20+ hours a week. Not because I have to, but because I want to/I NEED to do it for myself. I’m supposed to take 15 medications a day but if it’s a good day I only have to take 9 (I pretend everyday is a good day, don’t tell my doctor – I HATE taking meds – the side effects are horrible). It’s hard when you’re on your feet all day. I don’t want the internal bleeding to start again. That’s the worst, it lasts for weeks and there’s nothing I or my doctors can do about it. I hope the internal bleeding doesn’t start. I really, really, try to pay attention in class but sometimes pain wins. Then I zone out and think about when I’ll get to leave – so that I can sleep.  Sleep is nice. But I’ve never fallen asleep in class – never. And I’d never let my students, friends, or family down. I’m a part of a lot of peoples’ lives and very few of them know about what I’m going through.

Some of them noticed my hands started to shake recently (all the time), or that it was infected, that my brilliant eyes now have dark circles around them, that my skinny body looks thinner (although its hard to tell with my religious covering), mostly people have noticed that I’m getting ”lazy” these days.  That I haven’t been able to make all of my verbal commitments. That hurts me more than it does them but they’ll never know. But I really care about doing well, for myself, and for them.

 I found out after I turned 18, after my high school graduation and during my first year in college. An honors university student on a full ride. I was going to be a doctor. Its part of the reason that explains why I switched into engineering.  I’m supposed to graduate soon – real soon. It gets worst each year. I really care about making a difference while I’m alive. I’m not going to let this genetic pseudo-autoimmune disease win, and I don’t care if they say there’s no cure. I’m still here, I’m still kicking ass. Most importantly – I’m still able to think – and that means I can write. And that’s all that matters. I’m still here.

Whats my point?

Point Number 1 – If a new (winter) semester starts at a huge university, and you see a girl drinking hot coco alone by the smokers at the front of a library, keep in mind that she’s probably thinking about something that could lead a person to start smoking – or much worst - and that she’s smart enough not to do it. And if you’re brave enough, go up to her and say hello. And if you notice she’s crying (but she doesn’t want to you see) reach out as a person, and hug her.

Point Number 2 - Hearing the words “How could you do that to me, you didn’t even say Hello  = I’ve missed you in manspeak” made my day, or more accurately it made everything in my life up until that point worth it- thank you. Hearing it from you and not hearing it from him made me think about the value of life. Now, I think you’re that much more worthy in my eyes.

On another note – this song sums up how I feel a lot of the time…especially now…

Lyrics for Anna Nalick – Breathe (2 AM Lyrics)

ANNA NALICK – BREATHE (2 AM) LYRICS

2 AM and she calls me ’cause I’m still awake,
“Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?
I don’t love him. Winter just wasn’t my season”
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites, you’re all here for the very same reason

‘Cause you can’t jump the track,we’re like cars on a cable
and life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
“Just a day,” he said down to the flask in his fist,
“Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.”
And here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But, my God, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. maybe I’ll just sing about it.

‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe, just breathe
Oh breathe, just breathe

There’s a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
‘Cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
and These mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
‘Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to

But you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable,
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, now
Sing it if you understand,
and breathe, just breathe
oh breathe, just breathe,
oh breathe, just breathe,
oh breathe, just breathe

My life is a series of jumps. Jumps taken from high rising structures, sometimes cliffs. All in an attempt to fly. Before each jump a crown of people gathers. Some people cheer “go on, do it”. Others foresee danger or are worried for my sake because they’ve become attached.  Some just watch – because they can’t wait to see my demise, or because they trust me, they trust my judgment. Everyone is curious. They know I’m not quite like everyone else. I never was “one of them”, but they’re not sure why. They remember me falling onto their ledge years ago. I came out of the blue and miraculously, I survived. Everyone wants to know.

 I’ll tell you my secret. I’ve never jumped for them. I usually don’t even realize they are there. I jump because I have to. Because they have nothing to offer me.. Because I’ve served my purpose and I have faith. I thrive on Truth and when there’s nothing left, I move on before I lose myself. I have to ensure my survival, but more importantly, I have to ensure that I am truly living. Not just intact, but living life in accordance to The way of life. I risk losing my essence every time, but what I gain is well worth the gamble. Each jump empowers me. I jump because they can’t see

It makes me wonder – how much further will I have to fall? When will they realize that if they want to truly live, they too will have to learn to fly.  I take one last backwards glace at them, brace myself, and do what I do best. Plummet into the unknown.

As I’m falling I wonder what it would be like to be one of them. To live aimlessly. To live without ever attempting to consider or understand consequences. A life where truth is an obscurity, an illusion they create for each other. Logic and reason are manipulated and twisted in outrageous proportions. Proportions that are almost as exaggerated as their tribal bonds to one another. They instill these thoughts and ideas in their people from birth. They’ve lost sight of what it means to be one. No, not one group of people, but One with respect to all existence. I tried to tell them about the places I’ve been.  Some people hear me but they see no need to listen. They’ve misplace the concept of value. They confuse commodities with images and illusions. Their children are what fascinate me. I think they’re the only ones who can see what I’ve known all along. And that gives me hope. Because maybe, one day, they will remember me. Maybe one day, they too will follow. Not my footsteps, but maybe they will follow The Way.

I remembered the young girl that was abandoned as a child. She lived in the structure I was sheltered in after my first jump. She had lived there her whole life. She had grown up as a child of all, someone who belonged to none. Her eyes were filled with hope and she knew of what my people called reflection. In me she saw herself, and I think she knew that I could see myself through her. That was the first sign. She understood pain and suffering, after all they were her intimate playmates through the years. I just watched curiously, year after year, I tried to teach, but mostly I watched. That’s what I’ve always done. Soon she was at an age when she could start to see oneness in all things, the oneness of love and hate, joy and pain. That was what made me hold my breath. She did not condemn what her people had designated as a dark art. What shocked me more was that she of all people saw what no one else could. Truth reveals itself if you listen or watch for it, but you have to wait just long enough. She saw that I had wings.

At first I was amazed. For the first time in my life I had found a contemporary. I could not leave without showing her that she too had wings. Even if they were crippled and pinned back, forced to develop and intertwine with the ribcage beneath her delicate skin at birth, she too had had wings. And I tried to explain to her that it would be painful but she too could learn to fly. It would take a while, years even, for her skeletal structure to redevelop, for her wings to gradually pierce through her shoulder blades. And then the agonizing pain of blood feathers.  I tried telling her that jumping was lonely but worthy. That she would never again belong – unless she could finder others that understood the concept of oneness.  That living for eternity had its ups and downs. I also wanted her to understand that it had many ups.  

I began mentoring her. I wanted her to experience these new developments in a wonderful way. I wanted her to have what I never could. You see, I learned what I now know through personal experience, trial and error. I had found truth because like her, I had suffered and found oneness and I embraced it through understanding and love. And it brought me to The Way but I was without a mentor. I went through these stages alone. I believed I was born with some sort of underlying mutilation or that I was developing a rare disease. I started to doubt that I was human. I was forsaken by all of the people I had ever known in life. And I had learned to jump because even then, I had to do it to survive, or else they, my loved ones would destroy me. In the same way that these people would destroy this beautiful girl.  She was my one chance at making things right.

When I realized what would become of her, my first reaction was to shelter her from her people. I thought that maybe she could live alone on a ledge all to herself. At least then she could watch the people and the places that she had come to love from a distance.  No one deserved to know the darkness and suffering of a jumper.  Or she could join me. But I knew that this would be her choice. I knew what she would have to face Truth if she was going to make the same choices that I did. If she choose to think as One.

She made her choice.  She did not jump when they came after her.  After all the years we had spent together, after all of my mentoring, she went to them willingly. I watched as they tore off her wings and mutilated her body. They didn’t want anyone to know. It would ruin their way of life. She chose death over perpetual contemplation, over the ecstasy associated with eternal life, over the lonely suffering, because she couldn’t see my purpose.

She couldn’t see the purpose, the big picture. She gave up on me.  She gave up on oneness. She still believed what they had instilled in her, what they had brainwashed so many others to believe.  I could never make her understand that survival , that maintaining a way of life, wasn’t half as worthy as the way of life. She felt that she owed her people something, even if that meant she owned them her life. I watched from a distant cliff and for the first time in a long time, tears of agony and anguish rolled down my face, and a stifled cry escaped through my lips. Even if they couldn’t see my wings they would know about me because she had told them. So I jumped.

Every time I jump I can feel her presence and I wonder if I’ll ever find another person who is willing to fly.