How doth the little crocodile improve his shining claws…..

marchhareandmadhatter2I need to break down but I can’t.  I need to get lost in my thoughts but they hurt.  I need to feel but I am numb.  Shell shocked from two years of pain, sickness, disease, knowledge, education overload, flooded over and over with emotions that I have dissected and moved from folder to folder in my mind.  So much filed away and brought back to life on a daily basis no matter how far down its buried or deleted.  Fantasy created by convenience and facilitated for relief has become complacent now.

This is what they don’t talk about.  The aftermath.  The tour of duty is over for now but at anytime, any moment we could be deployed again.  And it’s the unknown that is never eliminated.  No annihilation of theses fears only perpetual thought and worry that is eased by distraction and entertainment.  The lust for life and it’s necessary actions from day to day and the release that is craved to get me through.

Some days are totally fine and I am pleasured in the moment and laugh and enjoy the light of day.  Reveling and basking the rays of all that is appreciated and held on to in greatness. And others are spent in the darkness of the night that infests my creative mind and it torments my soul and spirit and the tears find their way out washed down in the shower and caught by the wash cloth in the bathtub or simply felt hitting my chest as they fall from my cheeks.

I am not the same person I was a year ago.  I am learning to deal with a new me and a new outlook.  Anger still finds it’s way in and sadness is a kin to kindness given with smiles crossing paths in public.  Lost hope replaced with hopeful devotionals and lots and lots of fuck words!  Jaded maybe, real….all to much and all to often.  Softened and gentler reflections are seen when I look in the mirror now.  Second guessing has taken a back seat to courage and strength and determination.  Life is hard.  It is.  Flat out.  We didn’t ask or want this life but we go it.  So you handle it, the best way you know how.  Mistakes are made and learned from and never forgotten and we try to stay on the same page… least the same chapter or at the very least the same book.  The foundation never crumbles even when the structure is damaged.  Unveiled and unbridled realism with no substance to cloud my or quiet my thoughts.  Dealt with and seen for what they are and felt for all that I am.

Diversions welcomed and honored often.  Engrossed in thought and day dreams with my imagination for comfort.  Recreational thought is my drug of choice now.  Sleep lit up with dreams that linger and end up often as a muse to words and descriptive abilities.  Utilizing that carnal instinct and visual stimulation to please the artistic and prolific side of my mind that pours out when I let or when the levee breaks and it pools in fertile mediations that build from scene to scene.  A construction site of the stories that swirl in my head.

To write them is my dream.  To see them form is idealistic.  To use them is what I hope I can do one day.  “It’s a new dawn a new day and I am feeling fine” lyrics that float around to help ease and caress the character of who I am.  Bold As Love and living one moment at a time.  Shattered and putting the pieces back together.  Like a puzzle with a entirely different picture on it now.  It’s the same nature, but a different season.  And all is well.  All is well, even in my own wonderland, we are all mad here.



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