Some wonder why… I bla to the bla, about my two to four year shock and yammer. My mellowing roar weaving on and off for so long now. There have been many clicks to my trip switch flipping me on and off. There are triggers, like anything else. This issue connected to loss and trauma is bigger than all the rest. loosing my home, loosing New York is the one rip snatcher I have yet to master. Sex, drugs and rock roll are rarely and issue for me these days. Loss of everything else can still be a stinger-
Today I watched a video play, it caught me by delight and murk. It was of a lil ruffle hopper, a sweet lil young sweet thang. I assume of age five or six, I have never done well with the age game. Innocent with blonde locks at the Bedford “L” stop in Brooklyn. Stomping to some local sounds. Banjo plucks, just having a good old time. The way they carry on in the city of glitter and grime. Just one of the many random examples of why my heart sang each day when I was not numbed by trauma and meth. After the “Main Event” that took place November of 2011-God I hate to say it one more time. That dang gang rape I guess it will be part of conversations till the end of this or perhaps the next lifetime.
Many a New Yorker take daily doses of these magic occurrences for granted. For myself as life situations shift, and exits occur. Moments of reflection repeatedly arise in my heart. As I view from the outside glancing back at the wonder of the world that I had left through delusions, panic and fear. Now equally the beauty resonates 20/20 clear.
Sometimes I wonder if I can ever forgive myself, even for what I have nothing to forgive myself for. Regret is a vicious weapon, ignited by street scenes on television each night as I open my back door after a long days work beat and frazzled. Eyes locked on a shot of some pizza place on Sullivan Street that flashes before me in traditional sitcom fashion. Mid town police dramas send shivers of memories lost. A shot of Parsons School of Design during Project Runway every can destroy not like it did a year ago. A year ago I would be suicidal for 2 weeks or more.. Every frame, scene, commercial can catch me off guard. This is what the video today was like for me. It was a regret crash back –
Crushing me quickly in the vat of regressive therapeutic hell. Soon it is flash backs and mini meth cravings and all is not well. It is back to spiritual boot camp, I’ve done this all before. I shout within my head “I shall never give up” and weep in silence. It’s only TV what the hell. I fear the 11 men that rape me less than I fear “Broad City” or a vintage capture of “Rhoda”. Sometimes but not always when I think I am doing just fine. I feel the cold steel blades of regret slash. Just then the loss rips from soul to hole. Everything I lost and abandoned from blood to money pulses through my memory banks. And the salty rivers begin to flow blackness lingers until the sun once more rises and I heart regenerates..
HEAVY-all progress seems to have only been and illusion. I know this is a temporary myth soon to lift. Yes at this stage I know it all will last a few hours and I will move forth stronger than before. Huge props and self acknowledgment for the power of love, the power of growth and the power to be ok taking a brief detour to the internal city of shitty…I just don’t want to stay to long.
As new day sun rises the world is right again. I tell myself, it is ok my friend. Healing Heart Healing Hands so little time and so much healing has been done. Stay the course, you can make it home once more. YOU can make it home, you are NOT alone this time.
No longer a fractured man, no longer a prisoner of flesh, no longer a prisoner of chemicals, aggression, rape or home. Gentle journeys are worth the time. Often tears scrape down the inside of my cheeks. Hidden from the outer world. Chapped and dry are the emotional silent cries no one shall hear as I scream looking directly at you with a awkward manufactured smile. Yet spirt’s light and spark fires powerful and true. There is ALWAYS LOVE there is ALWAYS HOPE always love and hope. As Champions and Warriors, we live on our daily fuel we have no an option to tire.
For now, I choose to enjoy and reflect. So many wonderful gems to remember in the image albums of my mind. For now I keep fresh the vision of this young young miss. She is both electric and safe as sounds strum near Bedford tracks. While love frolics around her as parents and strangers join in her dance. I have many choice, I choose to stay the course.
I have gained many things I am appreciative of this. Sanity, love, and spirit. Perhaps someday I will return home, until then I am a fool in love. Until then my tube is unplugged.
Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt