Covering Void

Is it funny how something broken stops feeling? – The Broken

The only emotions I contain or ever seem to feel are rage and bitterness. I cry out that life isn’t fair or people are the problem. Everyone else needs to grow up and live their lives. I’m an angry child too proud to back down when I know I’m wrong. What happened to me?

I want to blame everyone who wronged me in ways only I can formulate an understanding of. To yell at God, who made me such a low confidence, unfortunate loser. It’s not my fault. I’m the victim… in truth I’m the asshole. I’m the one who continues to sabotage relationships. Push away family. Shut myself off from the outside world. Embrace the void and pray it ends.

I am my own worst enemy. The sad part is I know it, yet I cannot beat myself. I am always one step ahead. My lofty ideas of sacrifice and compassion will forever be shrouded by pride and selfishness.

Since I was young I’ve raced towards becoming the man I am while spouting ideals that were contrary to the notion. I still believe I can be a good man, but I don’t know what catalyst I need to change. To stop the void from spreading. Darkness covers me, yet I still cling to the dimming light. It is dying though.

No Hero

When I was young, I would never have thought I’d be who I am today. In fact, my child self would probably tell me to be happy. Would probably go out of his way to try to make my day better. He did that for a lot of people. Sometimes selflessly other times hoping the girl would like him or the person would be his friend. He would have willing taking on the worlds suffering, because he cared.

But now there is me. That child has grown into a monster. Full of venom and rage. I always thought I’d be a hero, but I’m much closer to a villain, but society makes it so easy does it not? Everyone is so selfish and just pieces of shit. I look at people and they aren’t worth saving. They treat each other like crap and use whatever excuse is relevant at the time to do so.

I just lied. Stopped typing to lie to someone. Didn’t think twice. Just did it. Why? I wouldn’t have when I was younger or I would have felt a massive guilt about it. Now it is so easy and those pieces of shit I hate; I am one of them. As a kid I saw the villains and I believed they could be good. That good was greater than evil.

When we are born we are empty. Neither good nor evil. So why am I so filled with evil. I want to blame the world, but I’m not even part of this world any longer. None of it belongs to me. I belong to none of it. In fact it may be my enemy, whether I’m the hero or the villain is yet to be seen, but years ago a kid would have believed I could be the hero.

Reject

I heard something in a show. Probably watch too much shows. Actually, I know I do. I’ve spent my life hoping to be like the characters I see on tv. Popular, runny, nerdy, tough, hero, kind, romantic, a million positive characters that I’ve wanted to be, but its such a disappointment to find out I’m me.

But back to what I heard. It is that serial killers or mass murders usually go through a traumatic event, are socially awkward, and feel rejected by this world. I never knew why I felt so sad and under water until I heard that. The words just fit. REJECTED BY THIS WORLD. All I wanted to do is feel like I belonged. To feel part of the crowd.

DISCLAIMER: NOT a serial killer or mass murder. Just a reject.

Yet even when I’d start groups, plan events, or try my damnest; I’d mess it up or fade into the background. I don’t want you to think that its people’s fault its mine. I don’t fit any molds. The bullshit this world gives you about being an individual is a lie. No one wants to be different when different isn’t what everyone else wants. We want to be wanted.

When I type this out I think I’m just being stupid, but that doesn’t change how I feel. I don’t feel like I belong and I don’t want to be here. I’m married. I have a loving family. I have friends. I have people who care about me, but I don’t want to be here. Every day is such a damn burden. It is lonely. IT IS LONELY. ALWAYS.

I feel like I’m underwater; sometimes I get a breath, but it is not enough.

My boss (P. 2)

Buy low; sell high- My Boss

Great advice for stocks, but now I have to take these words of wisdom and touch on what they mean to me. Make it a Karate Kid moment when the words that were obvious hid some hidden truth. My boss was a direct man but I like to think he’d be proud of the deeper wisdom I pulled from his words.

I was an investment. I broke tools and bent parts on tractors trying to do jobs for a man I viewed so highly. He saw something in me despite my knowledge being little and cost being great. He put the time in to watch his investment grow, and then he sold it to the world.

I wasn’t his only one. He knew a diverse portfolio was important. He sent us out in the world to become lawyers, accounts, consultants, and goat herders. Defending, enriching, informing, and nurturing those who come into contact with us. His greatest joy when we visited was discovering how we continued to grow. No longer needing his investing, but now investing in those around us.

I often wonder how I was fortunate enough to come to meet my boss and stay in his employment. I think back to one of the first time I was working for him. He had left to go do something, and I had quickly finished what work I had. I stood a moment in the large three bay garage waiting for him when I saw leaves blow in. Noticing quite a few leaves had already made it in I grabbed a broom and began sweeping. He returned shortly. I looked up from sweeping. To see him smiling at me.

That’s showing initiative.

I didn’t even know what it meant at the time. Now I know it meant everything.

Dreaming

I’ve been someone before. People knew my name and I was important.

In the shadow of the night people raged against the darkness screaming my name. Loving my face and the presence of me stilled their fears. I was a hero. I was a villain. I was evil, and I was god, but then I was dead.

I was a killer. I was a savior. I sought my darkest fantasies, and I learned how to cure cancer.

I became successful. I lost my soul. I was homeless, and found the meaning of life is not in possessions.

I ran never tiring, and at other times, I ran and didn’t move.

I’ve lost my mind screaming into the night. Yelling for someone; anyone to take the pain so I could not end it all. I’ve lost my mind hollering the name of the love of my life; praising the joy I’ve finally.

In the end I was always dreaming.

Fading Imaginations

If you don’t get imagination as a child you probably never will. – Dr. Seuss

Did you ever run into the wild with just your imagination? As a kid it’s how I always played. A stick could be sword, bow, or a bazooka. Foes and enemies appeared before my eyes, and I bested my greatest challengers. I often recall these memories with fondness, and think to a car passing by I was just a kid tumbling and running around for no reason. My imagination was strong back then. The lost of imagination is one of the greatest tragedies. Because we stop believing we can beat the things that haunt us. Our belief in ‘good triumphs over evil’ is squashed in the harsh reality that is life. As a kid you believe paper wings can make you fly, or pieces of junk can be turned into a time machine. Where does our imagination go?

Reality takes it when a hero dies. Reality takes it when the darkness of this world is greater than the light. Reality takes it when you have to get a job. Reality takes it when those paper wings fail and the time machine never comes to life. Adult imagination isn’t nearly as powerfully as a child’s. It has to be nurtured the older you get because the truths become too real. Turning a blind eye to facts becomes harder. Some might say you can’t live in a fantasy world, but why not? Maybe people wouldn’t be so cruel, depressed, stressed, or cold if they just opened their mind up more. Not open to new ideas necessarily, but just to the power of the mind’s eye. Be willing to stare nonsense in the face, and accept what it has to offer.

I think back to those times in the woods, my front yard, at the lake, running around my house; all the places I explored my imagination, and I miss that time of being lost in my mind. Worries were few, and joy was great. I think I will take a weekend sometime soon and wander into the woods. Pick up a stick and fight my foes. Engage my imagination because it is something I don’t want to lose. The world is too real and harsh of a place not to get lost in a fantasy world once in awhile.

My Boss (P. 1)

Take care of your assets and your assets will take care of you. – My Boss

There has been a lot of loss in 2018. What was left of my past is fading away, and I’ve always made the mistake of holding onto the past. A man, who was more like a grandfather to me than a boss, passed away this past summer. He gave me a lot of wisdom over my years of working for him. After college I’d just go down to talk with him, and the thing I regret most is that I didn’t do it more. I always found a reason why I was too busy. Time never pauses though, even when you promise to make more of it for those you love.

My boss didn’t fear death. I don’t know how he didn’t, but when the cancer was back and he was given months to live, he just kept on living. He helped someone build a house for Christ’s sake. He’d be out on his tractor or mowing the lawn. Life didn’t stop when he found out he only had a little left. He made sure to use that time he had left. There’s so many lessons to be talked about there alone, but my mind comes back to his six business ideals. Ones he had me commit to memory. Ones he had everyone he came across commit to memory.

Take care of your assets and your assets will take care of you. I always thought he was talking about the tractor, the chainsaw(I frequently jammed or dulled), or other possessions. Now, when I look back, I think his greatest assets were people. Everyone he came across, he tried to better their lives, and it was very rare when he didn’t succeed. He changed my life for the better, at least, when I was wise enough to listen. So what do we get from this? Help your friends, your family, your fellow man; because they are the assets that are life changing and will truly take care of you. I’d do anything if I could talk with him one more time. To hear his wisdom. To laugh with him. To have him ask a thousand questions about my life. To talk about the next project, even if it’s me. Since that is no longer possibly, I need to pass the wisdom on. I need to make those who are sad laugh. I need to show interest in other’s lives. I need to move on to the next project, even if it’s me.

In loving memory of my Boss.

This is Breaking Down

I want to write something to change my own life. Nothing I’ve written has been for anyone else. I want praise. I want meaning. I want someone to notice me. I want some one to say I’ve been there. To say they understand what it’s like to be like me. Its all about I, My, Mine, and Me. I’m a selfish asshole who wants people to care, but doesn’t have time to care about anyone else. I want to say here, “I wasn’t always this person”, but that is a lie. Was I ever nice for anyone but me? Was God ever real or just a vise? Did I care only when it mattered to me? Convenience. A show. A fake. Me.

I’m a pretender. A type of person I shit on without realizing that person is me. I can blame life, people, circumstance, or fate; but in the end I’m to blame. I don’t finish anything, I just exist. I hate existing. Life isn’t suppose to be hard. It’s not suppose to be complicated. Everyone else does it, but I fuck it up. My whole life I’ve been waiting for something big, but never doing anything big. I’ve lost touch with so many people, and I only see how it effects me. Because I’m a selfish piece of shit.

Megan, the first girl I obsessed over. Is it where I fucked up? Obsession not confidence? A shy introvert who thinks having morals actually matters. A fucking loser who couldn’t talk to girls. I fucking hate that guy. I hate him, but now I’m this man. Fucking broken. A wreck. Not some wreck you can’t turn away from, but one that has been there so long you don’t even notice it anymore. Just junk on the side of the road.

What do I need? Maybe a new question.

For all who read this. Never become me.

Reaching

I play this game when there is something I desperately want. I look the other way. I try to pretend it doesn’t exist. I focus on anything I can to not think about the thing I want. I do this because when I want something, I obsess over it, and before long whatever I wanted is gone. It fades away out of reach, and my life is back to being just me.

This can’t be a feeling mutually exclusive to me. I know there must be others who find when they focus on a desire it disappears, but what is the solution. Never truly care about anything? Feign engaging? Wouldn’t that just lead to more loneliness. If you are anything like me, the loneliness reaches a point where it is not bearable. Humans need connections. My soul is wired to want the connections that want me the least. In that moment, when I try to focus on anything else, everything, but the thing I want, becomes joyless; tasteless; meaningless; just not enough. The people in my life notice, but their cries for my attention go ignored.

I never said I was a good person. In fact, I would venture to say I’m a terrible person to those that love me. The exception was always Einstein. Even when I was reaching for the one thing I wanted, I never lost sight of him, but his story is still not one I am ready to write. This is about reaching. About desire. I think some people, like myself, are wired with such an intense wanting that there is no solution. We are the ones cursed to worry about wanting anything because it means such an intense loss that our own minds cannot begin to fathom. How does one become so attached so quickly. I have no words of wisdom or encouragement. This was just to see if there is others like me, and to let others know there is people like them.

If you are lost in a crowd, you are not alone. – Robert Joseph

The Wait

Read.

Seen.

Opened.

They are all a partial answer, but the reply is the full truth. Whether that someone is going to respond to keep the conversation going or find out more about you is what you await. What do we fear in this truth? A brief response, or worse no response. What do we hope for? Questions that show interest in us or just jovial conversation. The fear or hope decides whether it was worth the wait.

Read.

Seen.

Opened.

Forget them all. Read a book. See a movie. Open yourself up. Don’t let the wait control you. You can control your wait. That is the truth.