I haven’t been much good for anything lately. Between being sick for the past 3 weeks or so and it having just been October, my head and my heart just want to give up and lay down and die. It has all been way too much. Tonight as I began to play catchup on all my assignments, I came across several things I wrote years ago after Lorna’s death. It was a mistake to re-read them right now. They took me back and I haven’t been able to get hold of myself long enough to start back on my assignments in 8 hours now. Anyway, I felt like I should share these things with all 0 people who visit my blog. So enjoy.

If I could catch all the tears I’ve cried because of you,
They would fill up this room and perhaps I would drown.
I have often thought that that would be best,
Would my heart still feel this pain if it no longer beat in my chest?

My baby doll, you were my best friend,
my only friend.
And yet, you were my worst friend,
my only friend.

I gave you everything I could give,
I never felt you give much back.

I had never felt such great joy,
I had never felt such great pain.
I had never felt such great gain,
I had never felt such great loss.
I’ll never feel again…

You blamed me for all my faults,
I couldn’t blame you for yours.

I remember you, the girl of my dreams,
You were smart, you were beautiful and you were so kind.
I didn’t know how or why way back then,
But when you entered that room, I Knew you’d be mine.

I remember that night, so cold and so clear,
Your eyes burning bright just like the stars in the sky.
It took so much nerve but I knew it was right,
I leaned in real slow and took you by surprise.

I remember you fell, your knees could not hold,
I grabbed you up in my arms and held you in tight.
I knew in that moment, standing there in the dark,
I would promise to hold you with all of my might.

I remember the feeling, so intense and so warm,
It filled all my body, my soul and my mind.
I had boarded the train and I wouldn’t look back,
At last I had found who I had come here to find.

I remember the ride, it was bumpy and rough,
But I had paid for the ticket and I had stood in the line.
No matter the twists and no matter the turns,
I would never have thought that you wouldn’t be mine.

I remember that morning, so cold and so clear,
I had sent you a message but you didn’t respond.
My mind feared the worst and it soon was confirmed,
Our train had de-railed and now you were gone.

I remember you, the girl of my dreams,
You were smart, you were beautiful and you were so kind.
They say people like you aren’t meant for this world,
All I know is that you are gone…
And now you’ll never be mine.

He was 24. She just turned 26. They loved each other so much. They had been together for years. They wanted marriage, a family but he was still in school.
He talked to her on the phone that night. She had to go. He said I love you. She said I love you too.
Woke up early. He felt uneasy. Walked to school. Sent her a text. Silly, it was the first day of fall break, October 5th. No classes.
No response.
Sent another text. Everything ok?
No response.
He felt anxious.
Called… voicemail.
He knew but would not permit the thoughts.
An hour passed, the phone rang… caller id: her mother.
The words, still too painful to speak after all these years:
…there has been an accident…she has been killed…nothing you can do…i don’t know…just thought you should know…i have to go…

Blacked out. Disconnected.

Awoke on the floor; dizzy, lightheaded, confused. Alone.
He began to sob. Uncontrollable. Inconsolable.
Tears so heavy. So filled with pain. Anguish. He gagged. Threw up.

Passed out.

He awoke covered in blood. Joy! Hopes of blessed death. Cursed to live. His head still bleeding. He reached for his rifle. Cold steel under his chin. Click… Click… Click. Click. Click.
Magazine full. One in the chamber. God’s cruel unmerciful hand. Irony. He was already dead. His purpose gone. Now lost forever.

Forever wandering alone in the cold October snow.

I have had Meka for 2 1/2 years now. She is 3. She is all white with a tiny patch of blue/gray on her head. She has one green eye and one blue. She is not deaf.
Meka was a gift from the love of my life, Lorna. Lorna hated cats but for Valentine’s Day back in 2006 she found Meka at the humane society and for some reason fell in love with her. When I got to her house to pick her up that Valentine’s night she had left a trail of candy with a note to follow. Now I got excited because my thoughts, as a man, went immediately to her in something skimpy at the end of the trail… so you can imagine what was going through my mind when the trail led to the basement and into a back bedroom. Upon entering the room, there was Lorna, fully clothed but looking especially gorgeous. She motioned for me to continue following the trail, which when into a dark open closet. I put my head in and saw Meka in the corner cowering in fear. She was 6 months old and I’m sure had no idea what was going on.
I love and cherish Meka. It was only 8 months later that Lorna was killed while driving to work when a 30,000 lb articulated earth mover drove off it’s job site and into on-coming traffic. Her car was the only one run over by the mammoth machine. Meka is my extension of her.

I sit in the middle of the woods. I lost the trail miles back. It is cold. I am wearing only rags, no shoes. I am surrounded by darkness. I can barely make out the silhouettes of the trees that surround me. A handful of beams of light penetrate the thick foliage above. They seem to be sporadic and random, coming in from all directions, landing wherever they please. A thick and heavy fog is slowly creeping along the ground. It closes in from all sides. The smell of an old damp and musty basement gets stronger by the second. I am enveloped by the noxious scent. I choke on it with every breath. Everything is damp; rotting, deteriorating, breaking down, falling apart. I am alone and lost but I am not afraid. Silence beleaguers me. It is deafening, as though my ears are stuffed with cotton. I am exhausted… no, there is no word to describe this feeling of total apathy toward existence. I am filled with fear and anxiety. I am overcome; overwhelmed. A thought enters my mind, it is almost like a whisper, “get up and go stand in the closest beam of light”. Receiving this message has used up every last ounce of energy I could collect within myself. I can do nothing with it. I cannot even summon the energy to move my eyes about and find the closest beam of light. I feel my mind begin to shut down. Darkness starts to creep in and my entire body begins to tingle, a cold and unforgiving tingle. I am shaking uncontrollably. As the last drops of awareness fade, I can feel the weight of twenty-seven long years start to lift. Only slightly but in that moment I remember what it is to feel genuine hope again. To feel desire again. In that instant, I no longer want to fade into oblivion, but it is too late, I have slipped beyond all hope or desire. My body is now hovering above the ground. I feel hundreds of points of pain; sharp and relentless. Pain streaks up and down my body emanating from these points. My hands glide over my body to discover the source of this torture. I am suspended by hooks that pierce my skin from my head to my toes. Each movement causes excruciating pain. I try to stay as still as possible. Slowly, one by one, each hook pulls through my skin. There is an exquisite rush of physical pain, beyond anything I could ever imagine, that shoots up to my brain like a bolt of lightning with each tear of my skin. As the hook finds freedom, there is a very short-lived rush of physical relief followed by a warm flow of blood that cools and clots quickly on my wet, frozen skin. My teeth chatter and I can see my breath. I realize now that I am completely naked. I now crave that painful release. I want more: NEED more. I begin to swing myself and jerk around in hopes that the pain might increase. The movement only wears down my faculties and I start to feel numb to the pain. I must remain as sill as possible and focus on this pain. I feel all of the emotional agony that has filled my entire soul for so long gather together in one massive force from every corner of my body. This force rushes instantly to the place that that jolt of pain originated. It is through this point that I can feel all my anxiety and depression and hate and anger punch through the tremendously tough outer shell I have created over the years and diffuse around me. In that instant, I feel an incredible release and I am free; released from the chains that bind me so tightly. It is electric and orgasmic. I feel every muscle in my body loosen and relax. The cloud that surrounds my brain dissipates. I feel the beginnings of a smile forming on my lips. My eyebrows lift. I remember my childhood and I feel unencumbered again. As instantaneously as this all comes, it goes and I am again left hanging, in tremendous pain on the outside and numb on the inside. I need to go there again. I need to tear out another hook. I understand physical pain. It makes sense to me. I can handle it. It seems like a lifetime that I have been enduring this suspension. Finally the last hook gives way. I try to make it last as long as possible. I focus in on each micro-tear as my skin slowly, over the course of an eternity, gives way to the cold, indifferent metal hook. I fall to the ground face first. I lay there face down in the damp, mossy dirt. Roots protrude from the ground and jab at my body. I can feel my hands and feet literally freezing hard. I don’t care. I can’t summon the energy to even care about my situation much less do anything about it. I feel completely numb inside and my body throbs. My face is expressionless as I stare miles off into the darkness. I am overcome; overwhelmed. I hear a voice echo through the darkness, “I want to feel you cry. I want to taste your pain”. It is am empty voice, no emotion, no depth. Hollow and unforgiving. Incapable of feeling. I need to die if I am not already dead. The pain begins to fade but is replaced with emotional torment. All I want is to be pierced again. I need an outlet for everything I’ve seen; for everything I’ve done. I am on the ground, naked, covered in my own blood. It is sticky and cold. It smells metallic, yet sweet. I cannot move. I try but there is no feeling in my arms or legs. I feel faint from the loss of blood. I hear movement nearby. I am instantly consumed with fear. I piss myself. The movement gets closer and closer. There is a dark and hollow presence creeping up on me from behind. I can’t turn my head. I can’t even move my eyes about. I am completely frozen. The presence stops and hovers directly over my back. I want to scream. I want to cry out but I am physically not able. I give up. At the moment those words go through my head, I begin to weep uncontrollably. The presence is not deterred. I feel an icy cold force press on my back and pierce through my skin. There is no physical pain. This force encircles my heart and begins to squeeze. Chills like I have never felt rush all over my body like waves. Never-ending waves of that same cold-tingle envelope me from head to toe. I know what is going to happen and I don’t have any desire to stop it. Death would be such a wonderful release from the struggles of life but death isn’t permanent enough. I am overcome with a desire to cease to exist. The cold around my heart gets colder. It feels like a frozen hand is slowly squeezing my heart. My vision starts to go dark around the edges. I feel everything closing in on me. I am so afraid. I want to scream out for help but I can’t find the courage. The light is fading fast. Much too fast. Gone. Into the darkness, forever.

The skeletons in our closets dance at night so violently at times that no amount of sleep can bring even a moment of rest and so we are banished to the desolate streets, forsaken, with nothing more than a worn coat and a clouded glass of acrid memory to aid our abandoned hopes of forgiveness, forever praying to barricade the inevitable dawn. what shall become of us?