Once upon a time...

What happens when you can't keep track of a real diary.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Something not quite so drenched in introspective, emotional ramblings...

I keep coughing.
This is good.
I just finished up my first class in something I hope will last a while - Shaolin Kempo
Tough stuff.
I walked in thinking I would just check out the class, but, instead, I ended up signing up for a year and putting on a gi.
I had my first private lesson, then I went through the group class, back to back. I had the dubious pleasure of having the sensei start off the group class with "Today I'm going to put you through a really tough workout."
And he did - I'm more out of shape than I though, but, I willed myself through 10 wind-sprints, 50 push-ups, 130 crunches, and then a number of other exercises (horse-stance with arms extended for ... a while, I don't know how long, alternating flamingo stance in the same manner, etc.)
During class and after class, the presiding sensei and the sense that taught my first private lesson came up and told me that this was an exception, that they were "destroying" the people in the class to make a point.
...I'll admit, it was tough, but, that's why I joined. I need to push myself.
I liked the private lesson. It gave me a chance to get things 'right' for some of the foundation. Well, of course not truly right, but, better than if I had just walked into the group class. We went through Front Position, horse-stance, half-moon stance, flamingo-stance, front two-knuckle punch, front instep kick, and the first 4 points of the 8-point blocks. That's a lot to practice.
The sensei kept down-playing it, saying that he knows 'it doesn't seem like much, but you have to learn the foundations.' I know that, I totally agree with that. I think he is used to people that are more interested in learning how to fight. I had to tell him that I haven't been in a fight in almost two decades. I'm doing this for me. I have spent years training and disciplining my mind (with varying degrees of success), I feel as though it's time to work on my body.
I'm also not sure if he went through more than he expected or not. As I mentioned, he said at first that he would go through one or two basics, but, we'd go through something a few times. then he would pause for a moment, watching me, and say, 'Ok, let's add this.'
I'm going to have to remember to take my inhaler, so that I can take a couple of puffs off of it before class. I ran out of breath long before I ran out of energy, in fact, I think I'll do some more push-ups and crunches now.

Cavernous
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
God I hurt
The cage of my chest guards
Nothing but a void
Joy drained out a year ago
No ice to fill, no light
Just a mask to wear
And
The resounding thrum of nothing inside

Unreal
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Each time I see you
Your serenity pours forth
Petty concerns slip away
...Into nothing

Evenings when I'm alone
I imagine your smile still holds
Even in private, with no audience
I pray it does
... Does it?

Are you like me?
Do you have hatred and despair?
Do you sometimes collapse?
Do you sometimes say things you regret
... But not really

One day I hope
You will trust me with that.
You remain a portrait of peace
A statue of inner beauty
... and remain unreal.

Tableau
Stillborn dreams keep their vigil over the witching hour.
Blue moonlight is coldly mirrored in motionless, clear eyes.

Silent breaths steadily mete out the seconds.

The bed's wide, empty platform presents the lone evidence of you.
Bare skin rasps across a clean, tight weave.

Muscles compress my torso into a coil.

There is nowhere left to run from the sickness within.
Dare I deny the tempest within, or drink the solitude without.

How many heartbeats until dawn?

lifesong
Five minutes of life.
I'm watching a needle record
all the moments I have left.
If you speed it up
I'm sure there would be a song.
I wonder if I would be a hit.

I think that I should grab some of my writing from a forum I used to post upon before the get lost:

The weakness of 3am
Why are you here?
What do you want?
I told you that I'm broken
There's nothing here for you
There's nothing at all

She has the last parts of me.
I don't feel anymore.
I don't get close to people because when I do
When I allow them to see
When they approach my stone borders

I rush out to meet them
I try to get to them
I stumble along the way
My feet always trip over the scab
The covering where my heart died

Each time I open that pustulent wound
I take so much time to rebuild
That abyss doesn't just stare back
It steals my life for weeks at a time
The hunger lurking there is unsated and reviled

God, I want it gone
Please help me to make it go away.
I don't want to hurt anymore
I want to be happy again.
I loved her so much I loved ... I loved...

I would have given anything,
Done anything
I would have killed,
I would have died
I would have languished in the gutter, I ...

Years have passed
still I find pieces of her here.
My life is so different without her
I don't even have a smile anymore
All I have is a daily mask that I wear
I wear it until it cracks and falls

I've been wearing them so long
No one sees beyond them
Each time I do slip
Each time I draw near the edge
The abyss doesn't just stare back

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Now I have to figure out something to do.

I suppose I could go back to working out, I've got to find something in addition. Working out won't keep my interest entirely. I need an activity. A goal. A few years ago, it was a person. 18 months ago it was a set of clothing. Then it was a person again.
Now
...
Meh, it doesn't matter.

Stripping

Moving through the day with a metallic stare
Today's new and improved mask is quite lifelike
Accept no substitute for our well-researched expressions

Strip

I see, again, that I am out of practice
My mask is slipping.
Blank stares, blank expressions.
I don't mean to be disturbing.
I don't know that I am looking for anything
Well, anything more than understanding.
I'll tell myself again that it doesn't matter
And, of course, it doesn't.
No, you didn't hurt me
Though, I should admit,
It does surprise me that you didn't.

Strip

She took me with her
Left me feeling wooden inside
But, I find that I don't miss it
I'm trying my hand at alchemy
Transfiguring my wooden soul to Steel
Solid and uncompromising

Strip

Yes, she broke me
But I helped her.
When we were together
I dismantled myself each week
Finding ways to fit to her more completely
I did so very well
Now I fit her, and I break myself again
The original is lost, of course
In utter destruction, I can build a new me
Maybe I'll be better anyway

Strip

Disappointment is nothing new for me
I grew with it and my demanding mother, and my absent father.
A shadow was always over my life
Your grandfather expected great things from you
I was 5

Strip

Stop it
Stop expecting me to be perfect
I'm tired

Strip

I ran away from this once
I will not do so twice

Strip

I have always felt the other me
Inside
Railing against my conscious compromises
Raging against the uncertainty
Screaming and beating the walls of my psyche
I could be that person
I have merely to allow it

Strip

I am

Clear and focus.

What matters? in the end, nothing
What do I need? nothing
Whom do I need? no one
Who needs me? no one, contrary to their opinion

What do I like? few things, seldom for long
What do I want? little
Whom do I want? ... irrelevant
Who wants me? ...irrelevant

Does this bother me? seldom
Can I continue with this knowledge? yes
Why to continue? there is not an alternative that is palatable
What is the outcome? life goes on, and so do I

To whom am I responsible? myself
Am I ok? of course

Sunday, May 22, 2005

How to destroy souls.

Around the same time I was telling her that we were done, My cousin in Mississippi was driving away from his parent's home on a gravel road. Douglas was known for his driving habits. It wasn't really that he was very reckless, just fast. As he was driving down the unlit, loose gravel road that lead to his parent's home, a woman not too far ahead was realizing she had taken a wrong turn, and prepared to make a U-turn. My cousin couldn't stop in time. I'll never talk with that rotund, blonde man again.

Around the last time I remember looking at the clock from my bed, right before I was finally, finally, getting to sleep, my grandmother's sister in Oklahoma, Mary, was also in bed. She didn't wake up.