Identity | Crisis

It’s late and I am writing again. There’s a soft patter of raindrops falling outside tonight. The hiss of the freeway (which I now drive to a regular job) is there but much more distant tonight. Most likely some refractral scientific quality of water and sound waves is what does it. The things we ponder to keep ourselves from that inevitable ache and pang of feeling love, not for one another but of ourselves.

Identity

I read a meme recently which caught me off guard.

“Make a list of 10 things you LOVE”

If you weren’t listed in those ten things then maybe it’s time to look again. At least something to that notion anyway. I didn’t list myself in those ten things. Did you?

Then just today I came across this one

It speak huge volumes to me. Hence why I mentioned the rain earlier, when I first cam back to the states, I lived in a metal house for the first time. I also walked numerous times in the rain (especially after moving out suddenly) for fuel whether that was food or drink is immaterial, but it was generally a more food balanced regime.

I remember, like it was yesterday, walking over the Newport Bridge in Oregon and wondering to myself why struggle anymore. I wish I could give even a semblance of answer as to why I kept struggling. Fact is, I cannot. It was raining again, outside my studio apartment and I was hungry. I could’ve walked right next door but something drove me past the closest store I could hope for onto the bridge.

I had my earbuds in to block out the sound of the falling water against the sidewalk, dirt, gravel, and asphalt as I wandered almost jogging at some points as if I had somewhere to be; not because it was raining, but just that…

I wanted to see the ocean at night.

Less light then, not much traffic because the weather was crap. The ocean was choppy, its whitecaps grinning like sharpened teeth, gnashing and tearing at her blue green gums. I was here, in the grips of real madness.

So I stepped backwards, feeling bitter and angry. Cursing a life I alone constructed by my varying choices.

Crisis

I haven’t been in contact with my mother for sometime now (years). Today we exchnaged a pleasent email. I’ve yet to receive a reply. Somedays I feel like I’m drowning in guilt. Others I feel like

I’ve got the world by the ass

As dad would often say.

I want to identify with a ‘title’ no matter how arbitrary. I want to be something more than, what? I honestly don’t know.

Alduting sucks ass, but I’m gathering a plan to achieve my true goals. No one elses goals, these are mine. That alone is a

New Normal