26.12.15

the truths

the truth is far less fun and interesting than what is imagined.
i hope it wasn't all imagined.
i have this idea in my head... well i have several ideas in my head. images and perceptions of the different stages and people in and out of this dysfunctional timeline. but i see now that i am truly delusional. how could i be so blind in the moment? what on this earth could keep me from realizing in the moment, that this fucking sucks.
i remember now why i fled. back then, emotions on fire in a white hot mess all around me. i've never understood this place. it all seemed so romantic from far away... but a foul smell lingers in the fibers of my clothes and mingles with an unpleasant metal taste. oh my god. it really is crystal clear.

see, when your life falls apart. not like a hiccup. not like a stumble. but when your life falls apart. when your in a white hospital room, probably on the third floor... i think... i tried to count in the elevator... when you're in this room you are all of a sudden fully awake. you follow the lines of the curtains with your eyes. blue. cornflower blue. textured nicely. you breathe in deep and everything smells clean. there is a deep disappointment within your heart. that you couldn't do it. that instead, last night in a dim bathroom, you called a 1-800 number that swore it could help. when you are there... you never expect, or even want to to gather pieces, to put it back together. but somehow, by some great feat. here i am. and i know why. i got the fuck out.

the roots i have here are toxic, black and sick. i don't understand my family and friends, and to be honest i don't care to try to. recently, it's been magnified. i just don't care. or i am heavily bewildered. how do i fit into this? why am i so uncomfortable? people i thought i knew are frustrating and simple. there is no satisfaction in conversation, i am left annoyed and empty. it's like they were only keeping spaces warm for what i would consider real memories. real things. it's like most of these people i cling to were fading images in the sun. 

see, my brain embraces only the strongest things. meaningful. bright. i chatter with some of my cousins earlier and while they, as strange loud disconnected people, fade in and out immediately, the stories we touch on burn bright and fiercely in my head. how has my brain transformed memories into near fiction? fantasy? my enjoyment in my family died with my brother i guess. the separation began then, alienation. and now all i am made of, my history, is blurry around the edges, it's just a bunch of stories. i don't know how, but it doesn't bother me. i don't think i could care any less. jesus. it feels fine. i used to fall apart at realizations like this but now, it's damn near comforting, 

i'm glad i left. at first i wasn't. i was homesick and sad for a place i had created in false memories and stupid beliefs, i was so naive. but goddamnit, i can't believe i waited so long, it brought things to life, into light, and it blew all the smog and glass shards out of the cavernous depths of my head. 

it's too much to go into, the time away, but the brightest light flickers in and out of my mind's eye almost hourly. and that's being with roger out on the boat, anchored in a green river. gently rocking constantly i can feel the wet warm air as i sit in the cockpit. 
Galina is wide and beautiful, i have fallen in love with her almost as deeply as i have with him. this curious man with a golden smile, tinged with a line of sadness. there are many seconds aboard the boat that i stopped and thought... i cannot believe this is my life. i cannot believe this is real. watching purple sunsets and fretting over the outboard, catching glimpses of dolphins and watching other boats pour from the canal to Rosen. even right now, that feels closer to the start of my life than my own birth, i connect with that time more than time with my own blood. 

what does that mean?

i miss roger. texas has nothing for me now. i was ridiculously mistaken. i just want to be home, in our bed. i want to be where he is and walk in line with him towards a goal that is fruitful and strengthening, 

it sounds strange. but i just want my real life. and i'm not sure if i'll ever come back to this, my old sad city, again, 

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