EGIC

There will be times the ride won't go as well as I wanted to, there is no changing that.
I hit a speed bump and was not given much time to get back on my feet. I was hit hard before I could fully come to my senses. And here I am, moving forward like a zombie, hurt, but these wounds wouldn't kill me. They are not nearly strong enough to compel me to reboot, hence I am but locked inside this uncomfortable state in which I go forward because I don't really know any other way but, truth be told, I suffered a couple of blows which slashed through and opened deep, profound cuts. They're not bleeding though. They won't rid of the poison, they remain infected. I don't feel good. I don't feel right.
I hate to disappoint myself.
I am needfully questioning, reconsidering, reassessing my calling, whether I fit. Whether I deserve to be where I am in the first place.
I had it coming I guess. I got a tad too sluggish in my house of cards, idling, looking down on whoever by fear of falling back down, heckling who I wanted not to be again. My pain had to be enough to sustain that authority. But I got thrown away from the throne. My paper crown isn't worth what I thought it was.
I'm not gonna say it's for the better. It's not.
But now that I'm back down where I started, it feels like all of it was for nothing. All of it has been for nothing. I am a fallen whatever, and it does not matter if it's climbing up there or going through the crowd,
I'm not going anywhere I feel like I belong.
I am not getting over it yet.
So I get work done to work myself down, I use the blades that attempted to lacerate my mind to cut the dangling limbs, knowing the whole thing is already contaminated. I've lived with venom running through my veins before. I can most definitely do it again. So I chop off what I feel failed, to take my mind off the fact that my mind is constantly self-inflicting contempt, undercutting what had préviously been established as viable parts of me. The view is blocked on some paths I was eager to follow. I am waiting for the blades to show me which way to clear out next, which ways to weed out.
I hold the belief that I will fall back and promptly be back on my feet. I will fall back on my feet. Unfortunately, I cannot get too acquainted with resignation and surrender. I will painstakingly look for the harbinger that would usher me onto my new road.
But for now, all I see are bad omens, unresolvable conundrums and unheralded catastrophes. This is how my mind shields itself, hoping for the worst. It is not very effective. It gets lonely in there, conviction-wise. Yet I keep trying, because it is what I have always done in my oxy-moronic existence; struggling to make something out of something I am not made for. I am attracted to what I hate, I secretely long for what I was denied. I am never on the same page with life. I never agree with what is supposed to have been decided from the get-go.
This is the burden of being hopelessly hopeful.

I am not really fine these days. I am just trying to find my way awkwardly through the life I chose against its will and that seems to remind me of it once in a while. The only thing that will show which one of us was right all along will be at the picket line. I am possibly headed towards a huge manhole for all I know, but maybe I'll get a shot at proving there is something good in that. Maybe there is something genuinely good. Maybe there is.

Let's slap the momentum across the face for a bit to see what happens.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Christmas is upon us, and yet when I look outside,

I see no snow.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RHhkd2B87Q8&list=PLalVktpBrfW2UvvpALP7yhw0YH2n-JSRw

Citron pressé

What's up, buddy? I heard you were feeling down of late.
All your friends left for life, and you chose to stay here.
But by yourself.
And now you're questioning whether you were right or wrong.
Come on now, get your shit together. You know you did things right. You always do in the end.

You can't keep a good man down.
Life can't keep you down.

I mean, you know life has not always flown our way. Well actually, it'd be more accurate to say that it has quite a handful of times, but we failed to grab what it jettisoned on the trail. That's never been a big deal. At least that was not back then. You just get up, shrug it off and forget about it.

This is the warrior I know.

I guess it piled up, eh? It leaves dust on your shoulders each and every time. And now it's a bit too much for you do the heavy lifting. I get that.
But that's not you bro.

You are not the kind of person to give up. Sure, it's challenging to see people leave, one after the other. You wish you were as well, departing for somewhere on the path of destination life. And truth be told, it would be hypocritical of me to say I've been there. I'm always the one to go first, just so I can avoid being the one left behind.
I left you.
I don't regret it.
But I still feel guilty about it.

And I can get a grip of what you feel. Remorse or  regret. Yet you had something, someone to stay for. You can't rewind.

Dude you're 23. And I know it's easy for me to say, because while not really having been places, I've had the chance to stop a couple of times along the ride. But you are. And life is waiting for you.
It really is.

You feel alone and I'm sorry about that. I am sorry because I have not been there for you. But I've been here for you.
I'm always in far away places, but I don't forget. You gave me 2 of my best years, almost all by yourself. You were not the most present when I collapsed, but you certainly were paramount in my recovery. You were my crutch, and so much more. And when I finally was healthy enough, I flew away. But you, my man, are a central piece in my life. You're family. You're a brother of mine.
I wouldn't be who I am today, and I would never have been able to achieve it all without you by my side. You've been my staple. And that's etched in my soul for lives.
And I can't stand knowing you're in a bad place.
I just wanna kick your ass the way you'd kick mine.

I'm thankful to you for countless things. We built memories together. Together. And you made me stronger, so much more than I could have become without you.
And I know, it's not a husk. I know beneath the surface you are feisty for existence; otherwise you wouldn't get hurt; not this way.
You're certainly more relentless than I could be in my worst days.

So fight back, mind-wrestle the shit out of this son of a bitch of a life. Cuz you definitely have a shot.
And you're not alone in this.
She loves you, and that is the only victory that conveys any meaning when weighing success against failure.

You did make the right choice.




Nobody's home, and that's gotta be a heartsore, but don't let the sinking feeling fill in; because before you'll know it;

I'll get there.