Edge of the horizon

 

Where the sun drops in the western sky and rises in the eastern horizon
Where one reality sets and another rises
Where it bleeds into a furious blur of yellows, oranges, pinks, reds, blues, purples and blacks

Burning yellows and fiery oranges fading into cool purple shadows
Before the blackened abyss begins
Painting brilliance on wispy clouds
A rippling lake of fire and brimstone.

Vivid reflections and shimmering skies

Where dimensions meld into alternate realities
A suspension in time
Where time freezes for a small moment
And stretches for an eternity

Which way is up or which way is down?
Does it really matter?
A myriad of questions floating
Unanswered in the fabric of time

That’s where I want to be
That’s where I want to live

Never looking back
Always looking forward
Life forever suspended
Never falling wayward

Let me ride into that far beyond
Let the sunset receive me
Let me straddle the dimensions
Let me float the puffy clouds

I will ride the Phoenix’s firestorm
Into the multiverse beyond
Through endless dimensions
Into eternal bliss

 

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Farewell Tour

Let me tour the scenic highways and byways
Let me feel the rush of the wind as it blasts my face

Daydream of riding upon my faithful steed
Into one last gorgeous sunset

Feel the droplets of Spring’s raiment rain
Feel the crisp bite of fall
Gaze at Autumns painted dress
Burnt orange, fire-kissed yellow and dry brown

I want to feel the soft kiss of snowflakes
The radiant embrace of the fireplace
The soft cuddles of warm blankets
A hideaway from the bitter winter

I’ll frolic in the grassy meadows
Lie down in a bed of wildflowers
Hear the babbling brook

Zigzag one last time through jungles of concrete and glass
Scanning onlookers’ faces
Watching people rush to their destinations oblivious of their surroundings

Take a Sunday drive through suburbia
Smell the barbecues once more
Hear the joyful sounds of children at play

Let me ride spectator, one last time.
And wave, with casual intent, a final farewell

All the things I’ve already done,
But let me do it just once more
Free spirited and venturesome
Then on to that unopened door

It’s time to move on
Time to venture from this place

I’ll lay down,
I’ll close my eyes,
And let eternal sleep usher me away
Bid agony a harsh goodbye
Send all the pain the other way

I’ll fly so high on peaceful wings

Into that fiery sunset
To the unknown reaches of time
Between dimensions
Where reality and dreams coexist
That place where the sunset meets the sunrise

Suspended in a moment

Eternally awake

Forever asleep

A Simple Thank You

I’ve contemplated this for some time now. Each time I’ve started, re-written or deleted and shelved it with second thoughts. Not this time.

This is not a self-promotion or a form of self-indulgence. Instead this is a simple, humble offering of gratitude.

First and foremost, I thank God. I know many of you who read this may or may not believe in a deity or greater power. That’s quite alright with me. I respect your beliefs. However, I do believe in Him. I am successful, in large part, thanks to His influence. I feel His companionship and love each day of my life.

Thank you, to my wife and children, for loving, supporting and encouraging me in the things I love to do. Thank you for letting me nerd-out and disappear on some evenings to engage in simple, yet fulfilling hobbies that give me temporary fulfillment. Thank you for letting me bury myself in a book or writing to take a load off my mind. Thank you for giving me purpose. Thank you for teaching me and making me a better man. I love you.

Thank you to TornBySports.com, particularly my friend Grant for believing in me. I am glad I have a platform to unload some thoughts regarding a long-time passion of mine – sports. Thank you for your friendship and trust. I appreciate you allowing me to be so involved in the process. I’ve grown immensely as a result.

Thank you to my friends John and Devin, for taking me on a fascinating podcast journey. I really love co-hosting and assisting in the production of a wonderful podcast – Jedi & Jerms. I never knew that podcasting would become such a fun pastime for me. I love our comradery and chemistry. I hope we can keep it going for the long-haul.

Thank you, Mike, Joao, and Becca at the Cantina Cast. It was a little over a year ago that I joined the Cast and it’s been fulfilling. I’ll steal Becca’s line – it’s been “funtastic”. Thank you for believing in me and giving me an opportunity to express myself and my love of Star Wars on a public platform. Thank you, Mike and Joao for choosing me to be a part of another wonderful podcast – Idiot’s Array.

Idiot’s Array – Thank you Mark and Ryder, my partners in podcasting and my friends. Thank you for teaching and joining me on a podcast journey that has been beyond amazing. You two have shown me new avenues and opened channels of creativity that I didn’t even know existed. We have a lot of “ah-ha” moments that make the journey enjoyable. It has been a lot of fun!

Thank you, Rob and Jon, for being a part of this fun journey. Although we don’t podcast with the Who Wars Network or Cloud City Council anymore, you both were there when a lot of this started, and you’re still there with me now. I’m glad we’re friends-for-life.

Thank you, WatchPlayRead.com, for guiding me onto a new platform of writing – movie and media reviews. Kyle, Chris, Ryan and Jasen, you’ve all taught me how to become a better writer and expand my horizons. I’ve forged new friendships and networks because of you. I appreciate your friendships.

Thank you and you, and yes YOU. Thank you all who are reading this and those who don’t see this, who have been with me on my journey of life. I’ve stumbled, made a public fool of myself, picked up the pieces and forged onward. You’re continued love, support, and friendship buoy me when times are tough. I am deeply grateful that you give of your time to me. You read what I have to say on here or any of the platforms where I share. You read, not because you have to. The fact that you do, motivates me to continue. Thank you for reading, downloading, sharing and engaging in conversations with me. Thank you for sharing your lives and experiences with me. Thank you for not giving up on me. I am often overwhelmed by the very thought that you each care for me. Each of you is a part of my journey.

I love each of you for accepting me for who I am, with all my flaws – I have many. I do love each of you, there’s always enough love to go around. Thank you, for loving me.

Thank you to my haters, detractors and those who throw shade my way. You know who you are, and I know who you are. And I know what you say and think of me. I’m sure some of you may read this, while many of you may not. What you think and speak of me, is often what I think of myself. True story. The difference – knowing you say it ignites me and drives me. It pushes me to strive for achievement. In the end, I’ll be the one standing on my mountain of personal achievement and success. Thank you for giving me the strength to accept defeat, stand in the face of rejection, and understand how to be better. Opposition is there to strengthen us. Yes, you have a place in my life. And yes, I do love you as well.

I’m learning and growing. I’m a better man today than I was yesterday. I have all of you, friend or foe, to thank for it.

Here’s to a challenging, rewarding journey ahead.

A Writer’s Soul … continued

A Writer’s Soul, the madness within … continued

The writer, with a few blood soaked pages, sits with his head buried in his arms. The look of exhaustion hangs over him like a dark rain cloud over a mountain meadow. He has written very little. However, it’s very apparent, he’s toiled heavily over the few words that appear on the pages.

His shoulders are burdened with the weight of the world … his world. It appears darkened and dismal, cracked and broken. The muscles in his shoulder are tense, hard as rock, and defined, yet they look ready to collapse under the intense pressure he bears.

The writer has poured his soul out. giving drink to all who would listen. His vulnerability is not masked or hidden, nor is his heart, that he wears on his sleeve.

In the writer’s mind, running wildly and free, are the lives and adventures of hundreds of characters. They visit faraway lands, travel through space and time, fall in love, lust for beauty, battle fiercely, kill with a bloodthirsty appetite and sail away on clouds of gold and silver. All the while, demons, past and present, haunt his memory and shroud his imagination. They torment and imprison his fantasies.

What is this madness?!

Instead of rejoicing in the magnificence of fairy-tales and fables, he mourns the death of ideas. The blood that fills the pages in front of him are memoirs of his personal, internal battles. They are pleas for help and relief from the shackles that hold his soul.

While his life may be a declared an open book, it really isn’t. A battle rages deep within his soul, like a roaring bonfire. Turmoil fills the caverns like a dark heavy mist.

Yet, through it all, he seeks nothing more than to lift his fellow man. He carries a world on his shoulders, filled with the cares and worries of others. All the while, he reaches out to be noticed. He seeks for love, and affection, and longs for relevance in an irrelevant world.

With blood on his hands, and sweat pouring from his brow, he has no choice but to carry on. Victory escapes his grasp, yet the jaws of defeat still wait a little ways off. He cannot turn back, only forward.

With a sigh, and a heavy heart, he picks his pen back up …

And writes…

*Read the first post in this narrative, entitled: “A Writer’s Soul“

Breaking The Cycle of Madness

It’s been a frustrating cycle – this writing adventure of mine. I went through a phase where I could write anything. Thoughts would flow from my mind to the pages like a roaring river in the spring. Rarely, would I question myself. I was in a groove.

Then, it happened. I can’t pinpoint a moment, or a sequence. I don’t know where it started. It just … happened.

I couldn’t write. The thoughts I struggled to spew onto the pages in front of me, were “blood and sweat” words; the few that weren’t, came from thoughts written down months before. It went from a river of flowing water to a bogged down swamp.

It wasn’t that the inspiration no longer existed. My mind still swelled with stories. They played out like Broadway musicals on the stage of my mind. No, rather the words found difficulty leaving my mind through text.

Thus, the conundrum I currently reside in.

Horror fills my soul. If I cannot write, how then can I put into order the chaos that now dwells in me?

My demons take over. The demons are represented by past failures, self deprecation and loathing. I reason with myself that perhaps, I’m really just not good. I just can’t do it. These demons have haunted me. These thoughts have engulfed me before. I’ve given up on past dreams and pursuits, because of them.

Could I possibly give in again?

Many of my close friends and family have suggested I simplify myself. The answer: just write. No order. No story. Simply write. Is it truly that simple? I rationalize to myself all the reasons for an unstructured approach.

So, I am brought to this day, this post.

“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

Well, I have part of that behind me. I read – a lot. And yet I still don’t read enough. Do I write a lot? Simple truths that still lead back to this: just write.

And so, I write this, completely unstructured. Why? To simply write. I want to break the madness within. I must start at the beginning. WRITE.

This could be my way of talking to myself. However, I have an audience to this madness … you, my friends – the readers. You get to watch as I talk myself out of this corner, through this murky swamp and out into the open waters again. What does this profit you? Perhaps … nothing. But, maybe, it WILL help you. Maybe you struggle with similar demons. If you do, know this, I support you. You are not alone. I will walk this path with you, to victory.

Even now, as I write this, doubts creep into my thoughts. However, I will not cave. This is my declaration. I’ll be damned if I cave to another self inflicted failure.

I must forge my path. I must conquer my demons. My life depends on it.

Absurd? No, it’s not. It is my life. It DOES depend on me and my decisions.

Here goes nothing …

A Migraine… A Dream…

The pain, so incredible, drops me to the floor. I curl up in the fetal position, submitting to the sledgehammer pounding in my head. I close my eyes, to keep the sharp blades of light from entering in. I slowly pull a blanket over my head to hide in the darkness. I can’t go on this way.

I writhe in pain. It slithers through my nervous system, starting at my head, working its way through my body. I am helpless, powerless against the searing pain.

Lowering myself to the floor, I claw and drag myself across the room to the only chance of relief. My hands shake as I fumble the bottle and drop the lid. Unable to steady my nerves, I drop the bottle as pills scatter everywhere. I collect enough of them to swallow and collapse back on the floor.

There’s a place where the unconscious meets the conscious for a brief moment.

I drift from consciousness. Not completely. My mind soaring through purple clouds and a deep blue sky. I feel as though I’m on a trip through a psychedelic dimension. A brief period between asleep and awake, where the world is in a state of dissolution.

I’m experiencing a cognitive shift. I feel as though I’m watching myself in an alternate life.

This is madness, and yet, exhilarating!

Its like living in a cotton candy world where the trees are lollipops and the grass is a sea of green gum drops. A world where one can ride on the wings of butterflies and have in-depth conversations, with unicorns, about nothing, and everything in-between.

Delusional and loopy, I wander aimlessly on pink and purple clouds, where the sun is a burnt orange with brown spots dotting its surface. I stare at it aimlessly. It doesn’t blind me, rather it draws me into an endless melting vortex.

Euphoria. …

I’m high; flying through another dimension. The hallucinations are so real, I can reach out and almost touch them. The clouds look like darkly toasted marshmallows. I float across the ground, my feet barely touching. I have no awareness of where I am.

I look back to see where I’ve been, but only see a man, lying down, prostrate on the ground. He seems vaguely familiar. Oh well. It matters not. I’m in a world where my dreams are reality.

I slide further and further into this psychosis. The images and hallucinations before me begin to morph and bleed into blurred images.

Suddenly I awaken. My mind stabilizes and I’m aware of my surroundings again. I’m no longer lying on the floor. I find myself wandering through the grocery store. How did I get here?

The pain is gone. The hallucinations and alternate reality is a vague, distant memory.

Life’s doldrums, envelope my soul once again.

I … am numb.

My Reality – My Mortality

Photo by Alan Zaugg

Life – a peculiar journey.

Even while I type this… I struggle to find the words to express how I feel. Life has been a bit of an oddity, of late. Oddity? Yeah, that’s a good word. It describes my life, my world, ultimately… ME. I suppose I’m a bit of an oddity, an abnormality, eccentric, a misfit.

I struggle with a great many things. We all do. Some, more than others and on a much grander scale. You never know what lies behind the mask of someone. A smile, a token, a look, cannot always depict what lives beneath. Some bury it deep within, while others wear it close to the surface. Each finding a way to cope.

My recent discoveries, or… adventures, have shed light into my own mortality or frail existence.

The sudden death of a co-worker at the young age of 57. Simple. A person who wasn’t known on a deeply personal level, yet a reminder of the borrowed time on which we live. A reminder, that life could change dramatically in a single moment.

Perhaps the diagnosis of a rare non life-threatening ailment, that will change the way someone is used to living for the rest of his life. Simple. Nothing risky or of significance. However, it is a reminder that mortal life is but a small moment in the fabric of time. A moment where we develop relationships, learn to appreciate, deal with pain, experience joy, and so much more.

I’m rambling, yes. But sometimes ramblings such as this, soothe my troubled soul and allow me to cope.

This post is different from any other I’ve created. It’s real. It’s vulnerable. I’m vulnerable. I’m coping. I’m surviving. It’s what I do. It’s what we all do. We are survivors. Whether it’s a life threatening, life altering situation, a simple argument with a loved one, an illness or a broken heart. We survive the day in hopes of finding comfort in the new dawn.

Even now, after I’ve chosen my words selectively, written them here, and read them over, I still find them rather hollow. I cannot express, completely, what is processing through my mind daily. It’s unfathomable. My brain houses countless thoughts and stories, that sorting them perfectly would take an eternity. This is why I write. It becomes a way to channel some of these thoughts and stories.

To echo what I said above, life is a peculiar journey. One cannot take anything for granted. Just when you think, “it can’t happen to me,” it does. Subtle reminders, a little poke here, a little smack in the face there, and we are brought back to the reminder of our frail, mortality.

And so it is with me…

My reality, my mortality.