I get to points like this and think I most be some kind of moron to have such a hard time going through life, working so hard to have nothing to show, maybe little to show, maybe just not want I want to show…
I look at people I cannot even look up to as examples and think, “They don’t have these problems… They can make sense of it all, you putz, what’s yer problem?”
Honestly, this time is much more severe than before, this one truly feels like it isn’t going to pass. Like it doesn’t want to let go of me. Yea! for the new, surly me!
But this time, something new has entered the loop. I caught a whiff of things on the air. (I really like smell references, it is quite accurate to how I experience some things.) I have growing suspicions of these ‘happy’ people.
They are FAKING! They are all a big bunch of fakers. I didn’t miss some all-important meeting on life in the third grade! (Which is when I consciously recall the cycle starting…) Simply, I am just not a liar. They have no fucking clue, and they go through the motions pretending that they do. An example would be the leathermen that are instantly elevated to leader-status because they had the balls to walk on stage, the balls to act confident. They don’t know any more than I do. Many of them know a good bit less… They never learned to smell. To smell the truth leaking out of their soul.
I smell my soul leaking. Sometimes I can even see it in the corners of my eyes. I have been leaking for sometime now. The first time I was flogged was when I became the most aware of my leaks, but they started long before that. One way or the other, this is why people noticed me – good or bad. They catch whiff of the passion oozing out of my soul-wounds and follow like puppies, unable to identify why they do so. Or they stand off in fear – or dread maybe – because they can smell the anger that wells up to fill the growing gap inside me. I leaked throughout my childhood. I am still recovering from the souls-blood lost of seventh grade. That picture day moment in fourth… that embarrassing truth revealed in kindergarten. Perhaps the doctor that aided my birth punctured my soul’s light with his tongs…
Perhaps my soul is simply crying because it cannot remember why I chose to return to this muddy pit of despair.
But throughout my life, since before kindergarten. I do remember. Everything. I have understood the decent way to treat others. I have seen how completely unable most are to do so. I have even failed in the task myself, numerous times, especially during high school, when I was leaking the most soul-light of all.
In this exact moment, I think I understand why I have had such severe moments and periods of meanness – why I have almost lost my closest of friends for my hateful behavior… I have always known the true way, but constantly – CONSTANTLY – I got stuck in the fad of minuscule petty people. I follow them when I know better. When I have seen and heard and felt the true way to be and see and hear and smell.
I hate and belittle and smear and loathe. I do it all in the moments I get lost to the crowd. This is why I grow so tedious of crowds, of public places, or groups of unfamiliar people. I do not trust myself. I am weak-willed. I am cowardly. I wasn’t always. I was brought to this world to shine. To be brilliant. To lead my tribe to its new home. And yet, I burn my own people in hate. I singe my heart as I glare at those I have made my enemy. My body festers with the diseases of our folly.
All, ALL, because my strength, my will, MY SOUL, has leaked out the cracks of my existence…
The cycle will end soon, or at least stop in its place. Each revolution has taken longer to complete. Either I will finally learn the trick, or I will be stuck in this dour, dim wretched space.
I need to learn, not be taught, but learn.
I need to remain me. I need to hold on and let go, all in the same instance. So far, I have only let go, and then spent a whole cycle wishing I had thought to hold on to it better… each time the opportunity returns, I fear there will be less of me to shine forth in my learning, in my evolution.
I have watched as teachers belittled me because their words failed to enlighten, they limits bore too much pain for them to face truth. And I said nothing to voice my outrage.
I have silently allowed bullies to punch and kick and push me into lockers, because I was a big boy that wouldn’t fight back, so they could look bigger in their weaknesses at my expense. And I had no voice or will to stop them peacefully. With words they cannot shove. I cry dismay – in my mind only – as my parents did that parent-ly thing and told the teachers and counselors – and parents, knowing that it would only get worse… and I couldn’t make them understand. My pleas failed me.
I have pondered the meaning of the word ‘faggot’ an entire decade before fucking a man, because they all used it to refer to me with such contempt. I didn’t understand why it could ring so true yet sound so undesirable.
I have acted against my best friend, making him smaller so I could be big. Following the bully’s trait instead of rising back to were I began.
I have withered in my spectacular difference, unable to explain my need to not be an engineer to my family. Unable to defend my need to make art. I struggled and struggled with the words. I compromised more than I should have. I fell against a cunt of a person, vile and foul, worse than any middle school bully. A teacher, an educator, so small in her space that she needed to crush me.
Here was my first attempt to stand for myself. To stand for rightness and rules and goodness and grace and decency. Her equals sided with me and STILL I was belittled and fouled and screwed and fucked and cracked further yet… Not very promising for the my own life’s messiah. Not quite learning, not going back, not conceding, just spinning in place. Getting nowhere, getting worse.
While I was being so smart and clever, I was forgetting to learn. I grew, and everything I added to myself leaked out the bullies’ cracks, trailing behind me as I walked on into my adulthood.
All along, I had my family, I had my friends, I had my lovers, and my fuck-buddies, and my co-workers. Each and everyone telling my how brilliant I am, how loving, how clever. How fucking unique!
But, never. NEVER was there someone standing next to me whenever I chose to make my stand. When I speak against wrongness, they all cower and snicker behind my back and go to hang out with the tormentors. They agreed in unison to stop the evil from spreading! They cry foul! Foul! They stream about me with their love. With their praises of my worth. They sing of words like “I love the gehs!” They are our equals…”
Then they sneak off to vote republican, to support the Church that burns us, to shop at the evil empire that cheapens us all.
I am not learning to safe myself, to save my soul-mother earth. I am learning to be silent. I am embracing the silence. Because that is all anyone surrounding me ever does. These are my leaders, my examples. I remember everyone. I learned a bit more from each and every… all the while sloughing off my soul-light, my uniqueness of being. My own personal messiah-light.
Still my wheels spin in the mire. I still seek the lesson. I still seek the skills. But dammit! I STILL don’t know the fucking first step. I am lost in some film noir world. Watches are melting over top of everything… I no longer trust that anyone else knows the answers. I want to feel connected, to touch and feel flesh, but I know I am on this trek alone.
Wow… I should sleep better now.
gryphon's hole 