Friday, September 13, 2013

that place / gamechanger

here is the quiet place ,
i can hear flower petals in the night
and when my knees shake i think i believe in god
and, maybe, even myself.

here i do not move.
some few hours a night i lay still.
and try not to be scared of everything i'm so close to.
maybe, even myself.


it's the scariest thing in the world to want something. not 'oh yah, that'd be nice', i'm talking want. it's a pain. a vulnerability. because if you want it, you put yourself out. you're vulnerable. a flick hurts to the core. a win is an earthquake. i'm on the precipice of a gamechanger. straight-up. the big leagues. i mean it. son of immigrants. confused. never once in ten years knew where i was going. cried on the couch of so many friends... how'd i become this. so close to it. effing big leagues.

i got my suit pressed. bought a new shirt - so that i can do up the top button and still breathe. got a haircut. shaved my beard. i'll get my shoes shined next week. will pick a tie. i think my grandfather's. i've got seven days to climb a mountain. and the whole time, fight against a job that's driving me nuts from 8am till 1am everyday. against that and everything that that means. everything i can leave behind if i can just hope my way out of this and into this.

(i had not known dreams could be this true).
(i had not known dreams could hurt).

i am almost invincible these days. i'm more tree than man. and somehow,
all i want to do is crawl up in someone's lap and cry. i haven't felt that need in years.


- i read an article about emotional unavailability
- right.
- it was like... some stupid chick magazine, '5 signs that say he's emotionally unavailable' - something like that
- hmm
- and i was like omg, this is q! you were every single sign.
- and?
- every. single. sign.
- how have we been hanging out all year and you've only just come to this conclusion?


she cried.
i clutched a pillow to my chest till it was all over.
but i'm right here. even if you're you, i'm still here. how does that not matter?
all i could hear were the possums creeping around the trees outside.
whatever. i don't wanna talk about this. forget i brought it up. #toosoon.


i'm getting younger with age.


more people believe in me than i realised. i'm humbled by this. i don't understand it, but i'm humbled by it.


it might be loneliness. maybe that's it.
this is the problem with my obsessiveness. my single-mindedness doesn't permit derivation or distraction. i'm consumed by it. the wants - when i'm brave enough to engage with them demand everything.
everything must be given she said - i recently read the Satanic Verses - it's one of the refrains, everything must be given.

(& so it is with life.

till i am dust, panting.
and the cracks in my bones finally feel free enough to exhale.

how strange the sound of all this.


in seven days i'll sit around a table with nine people. i have to come off the pills. i need to be more me. the robot has to be put back in the closet.

what then?

who knows.

BIG leagues.

a future i had not thought possible.
possibly earned, more like: willed to life.


or i could forget the whole thing and watch another 2 episodes of friday night lights.

1 comment:

Synesthete said...

I love the poem (assuming it was intended as such) at the beginning of this post. You have a brilliant voice, so good that after reading the latest few posts on your blog I still can't work out if this is your life or a story. I can only assume it's true for lack of confirmation otherwise, which fills me with a deep sadness, but also a hope that maybe you can get back to no-pill Sunday everyday, and make it no-rum Everyday too.