Running On Empty

“Work hard for what you want because it won’t come to you without a fight. You have to be strong and courageous and know that you can do anything you put your mind to. If somebody puts you down or criticizes you, just keep on believing in yourself and turn it into something positive.” – Leah LaBelle

Running On Empty
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Days pass and years go by, then I realize, I’m getting older. This isn’t a brilliant discovery but as I age, the days seem to whisper louder about my mortality and the lack of energy to do what I normally could do is most evident. If I can sense physical fatigue, what about mental fatigue? I struggle with severe mental issues (peruse my blog and you’ll see it plainly) which result in the weird trait of arguing with people who aren’t there. Not arguing with a vision, but rehearsing in my mind what was said and what I should or shouldn’t have said. I spend an hour or so cussing people out and yelling at them when they have long left the building. In the same way, I’ll rehearse an embarrassing or shameful moment over and over in my head years after the fact. These all drain away mental and emotional energy, the ability to take of the here and now. There is a finite amount of emotion and mental convolutions that I’m able to bear. After my resources are exhausted, depression rushes in to fill the void. An apathy and usually a self destructive habit looms in the setting sun of my mind and pulls me out of the thoughts and into another hellish position.

The answer? I stop when I find myself talking to someone who isn’t there, or for that matter, who doesn’t care what I think. I stop thinking about the embarrassing moments and faux pas that crowd my mind. Then I take my antidote and think about the something that doesn’t drain me, but encourages and fills me with hope, things that are wise and spiritual. Not necessarily all holy and Jesus things, but mainly wisdom and advice I’ve gleaned from searching for escapes from the insane asylum in my head. For instance, there are places and I’ll paraphrase, in the bible where God has said, “don’t be afraid of their faces or what they say, and I’ll be with you.” Instead of thinking about an insult said to me, or about how I really screwed up this or that, I think about how my Big Daddy (my affectionate term for God) is going to help me through this and give me a decent life. That’s how I’m learning to walk instead of crawl out of anguish. Peace my friends, it’ll work out for you, don’t stop trying, don’t stop believing.

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It’s A Long Way Back –

The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.– Hunter S. Thompson
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“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. – Edgar Allan Poe
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Its a long way back from the edge of life. I knew when I followed that path to the outer limits of my experience, my emotions raw and excited with newness of knowledge and feeling, that the price for this wonder is the journey back. It’s beautiful on the way to that edge, my soul being easily amazed by pleasures which offer no sure guidance and seduce me with their passion. This excitement is the elixir of madness offered by my wayward senses to lure me beyond the wise and sure. I have recognized the most painful of these experiences are the ones that offer extreme pleasures that lead me away from safety. There are many secrets out on that cliff, many of those secrets are taught on the journey back from the precipice. Run to the edge with reckless abandon, gather your pleasures of knowledge and lust, and know, a price will be paid. I’ll see you on our way back…

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine
Also published in Broowaha citizen newspaper
Also listed on Stumbleupon

First Published in Opinionsofeye.com

12022011

         

Shhhhh…. – Words can maim for life

 “Because even the smallest of words can be the ones to hurt you, or save you.”
Natsuki Takaya

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The tongue can set a fire no man can extinguish. The venomous stings it inflicts can break apart even the best friendships. Life and death are in the power of the words we speak. We’d do well to remember that when we blithely spout off the latest rumors, the latest dirt, about the ones we love. Don’t repeat the gossip, don’t listen to the gossip. Shhhhh…..

Also published in Wingposse Magazine, December 2012

11132011

    

Poisoned Love – A death sentence for love

“Love does not last forever, then?”
“He asked me the same thing this morning,” she said. “No, it does not – not love that has been betrayed. One realizes that one has loved a mirage, someone who never really existed. Not that love dies immediately or soon, even then. But it does die and cannot be revived.” 

Mary Balogh, Simply Perfect


knife-in-back

I’m surprised at myself. Being a spiritually enlightened man, well acquainted with my own faults and well exercised at forgiving a mountain of offenses against me, I’ve found myself at an insurmountable barrier, bitterness at a betrayal, no not just one, but many betrayals, of my lover against me. I mouth the words like I know I should, “I forgive you”, I pray the prayers, “Lord help her”, but yet, I find a seething bleeding wound festering beneath my loving mask. Why does this have a root in me? Worse, why can’t I, under any amount of coercion, cleanse myself of this horrid stew I’ve brewed? I haven’t yet tasted the foulness of it, but I can smell it, tainting the air of conversation and poisoning the purity of the love I felt. I’m sure it’ll kill all of my affection, but, I must make sure it doesn’t destroy my compassion for others, or let it morph into its evil sibling, revenge. God help me, I’m just like the one I despise! Now I’m left with this battle, and how to win it, I’ve no sure plan. I need an intervention of grace, power to do what I could never do.


Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It’s what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don’t let them take that from you.” Sherrilyn Kenyon, Invincible
Also published in: Lifeasahuman.com 
Also published in: Broowaha

11142011


 








 

Poisoned Love – A death sentence for love

“Love does not last forever, then?”
“He asked me the same thing this morning,” she said. “No, it does not – not love that has been betrayed. One realizes that one has loved a mirage, someone who never really existed. Not that love dies immediately or soon, even then. But it does die and cannot be revived.” 

Mary Balogh, Simply Perfect


knife-in-back

I’m surprised at myself. Being a spiritually enlightened man, well acquainted with my own faults and well exercised at forgiving a mountain of offenses against me, I’ve found myself at an insurmountable barrier, bitterness at a betrayal, no not just one, but many betrayals, of my lover against me. I mouth the words like I know I should, “I forgive you”, I pray the prayers, “Lord help her”, but yet, I find a seething bleeding wound festering beneath my loving mask. Why does this have a root in me? Worse, why can’t I, under any amount of coercion, cleanse myself of this horrid stew I’ve brewed? I haven’t yet tasted the foulness of it, but I can smell it, tainting the air of conversation and poisoning the purity of the love I felt. I’m sure it’ll kill all of my affection, but, I must make sure it doesn’t destroy my compassion for others, or let it morph into its evil sibling, revenge. God help me, I’m just like the one I despise! Now I’m left with this battle, and how to win it, I’ve no sure plan. I need an intervention of grace, power to do what I could never do.


Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. It’s what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don’t let them take that from you.” Sherrilyn Kenyon, Invincible
Also published in: Lifeasahuman.com 
Also published in: Broowaha

11142011


 








 

That Lake Is Me – Motivating myself to success

“Don’t you dare take the lazy way. It’s too easy to excuse yourself because of your ancestry. Don’t let me catch you doing it! Now — look close at me so you will remember. Whatever you do, it will be you who do.” John Steinbeck, East of Eden 
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No excuses anymore, no not for a moment, for who I am. Continuing on, pressing against a rush of water, the tide of public opinion and internal questions. I lift a weary hand to grab hold of the branches of promise jutting out of the banks at every turn, guardians to help in the unsure and trying times. Inch by painstaking inch I struggle through the cold waters, surrounded by banks of slippery self esteem. When I try to crawl out, I slide back quickly, if not for the holds I kicked in the mud, pats on the back, given only by me. I can see in the distance the calm lake, a haven of peace, where my mind is quiet from the shouts of the struggle. If I were closer, I would see the image of heaven reflected on that lake. That lake is confidence. That lake is freedom. That lake is me.

11122011

Angel Part 1 – The Lure

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The face of an angel. Papa always told me to beware of the woman who had the face of an angel. I’m not referring to natural beauty, but the innocent purity and helpless look that compels men to protect her, regardless of their logic. That’s how it was with her, an angel. I should have known better, my guard was down, my heart was broken, my mind was confused, all from going through a hell on earth known as divorce. I managed to find my solace, like so many others, at the local brewery, throwing down drink after drink in an attempt to drown myself or lose myself. I was at a low that only happens once in a lifetime, I lost everything, hell, I even lost my teeth to an unfortunate, “turn of events” known as getting my ass stomped. At that time, I figured, hell might as well lose these too, and spit them out at the feet my attacker, spitting out more than teeth, I spit out my self respect and self esteem. This is where she found me, a woman like that finds you, like a wolf finds a rabbit . I sat alone, a good drunk at the edge of the dance floor eyeballing the pretty young things, an old guy with no front teeth. I was as content as you could be, spending the last dime, on the last drink, and knowing I had nothing left to lose. I sat, unaware of the changes that were about to happen, and happen quickly, like lightning, and about as unexpected too. Turning up my beer to ease my pain, I lowered it satisfied, just as the angel approached. It was a line dance and the whole line of women were advancing like troops on the field, I sat giddy, like a kid in a candy store. But she, 18 years my junior, she stopped my whole world. Black tight pants with a gold belt that followed the curve of her waist and accentuated every not so subtle twist of her strut. She purposely stepped a little further than the rest of the line until she was directly in front of me. Me, a silly man, a deer in the headlights, eyes wide open, not knowing the wreck about to happen. Ignorance and lust, nothing like it to make a man sit stunned, a mark in every sense of the word, the angel, she knew she had me, she knew. That was it, she knew what she was going to do.

Also published in: Broowaha
12012011