There have been many times when I forget about this place and today would almost have been one if it was not for Ecuador.
So here I am, sitting and typing, I feel like you do after a long day in the sun, not so much tired as burnt-out, but definitely tired. I hope you all know what I mean. It also currently feels like I got in half of a fight, between the bruises on my jaw line, and the scraps in random parts of my body. All of this from one bottle of champagne. Champagne is wonderful, definitely my choice beverage for getting fucked up on. So I think that you all might want me to get on with the story, so here it goes...
There I was standing it the middle of the forest, not actually wanting to be there for I knew bad things were to come of it. What bad things? I can't verbalize or vocalize the horror of these things other then they might just be the most amazing things ever. So there I was in the forest, realizing that not wanting to be there was why I was there, I was there to know these things I was there to let it wash over me, I was there to find happiness.
The happiness was wrapped in a few layers and one of which was resentment, another jealousy, and more still were they flowing. These are not things you’d associate with happiness because you can't normally see through them, but the more you seek out these things the more you realize that the happiness is behind the scales. You don't want to feel these things but you can't help it. And then I died.
I don't know what killed me, it was like a gunshot, out of nowhere and I can still feel the wound. I bled out all of my joy and malice, all of my hard ache and camaraderie, I was empty for a time, and time passed.
Crying was what happened, but not the kind for tears, cries for help, cries for someone to share this experience with, and there I was, hoping to have someone come and tell me that they knew, that they were in the forest too, that they had seen my pool of self and had washed it with me.
There was something there that helped me. Something entirely beyond physical comprehension, that was telling me where to dig the bullet out. So I was there letting myself be controlled by this thing without knowing that it was building a cage around me as I healed. A cage that one could get out of with a simple slip of the hand, but if you didn’t know the handshake you'd be left for dead. And all I could do was wait.
I'm waiting right now, and I know nothing. I am on the verge of tears, my heart is already bleeding. Why for, you may ask? All I can tell you is that it's a dilemma, a lot of dilemma.
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Life can be tough, grueling, happy, and sometimes it'll even kick you in the nuts.
1 comment:
logan-
this is poetic. this is moving. this is exilherating. the feeling of emptiness is zen and can be enjoyable if you understand nothing. It's confusing and hurtful if you try to make sense of the nothing, the om. I'm pleased that you did not ignore it. I'm unsure if this is a story based on experience, or not. If so- i wish to someday feel this. it sounds so painful, yet like a revelation at once. this dilemma that you speak of- does it still haunt you? I know it's my turn to make the phone call and i long to have an indepth conversation with you like times of old, life keeps me moving. too much these days that i feel like a worn out rag doll that a child has carried on every adventure, through every rainstorm, in every sand box. my threads are coming undone slowly. perhaps there will be someone who can patch me back up- until that day comes, i endure more adventures.
peace to you sir, i miss you dearly.
-V
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