I really do. I cannot help but think of just how pressing my dependence is on a wonderful experience my life has endured. I chose this path on my own, and now I am having a lot of difficulty handling it. A couple of weeks ago, I thought of a vacation I was going on, and knew I would be visiting the Grand Canyon. I thought about stepping off a ledge. Today, we visited the canyon, and I realized just how selfish and horrific my decision would be. I knew already going in I wasn’t going to do anything rash. In fact about a week ago I realized how important my life really is today. I also imagined how the smiles and laughter of all the tourists would turn into confusion and rage at the thought of someone taking their own life.
I think suicide is a real concept in people’s lives and I do believe people have to experience some aspect of a psychosis to pull off such an act. I believe that most people would feel better if they handled their abandonment better than I have in recent weeks. Now today I am faced with again going it alone. I wonder every day, every minute of the day what damage I have done to a person I love very much. Truth be told she is the reason I am sitting here writing these words, because her love, or that fantasy we once lived remains my strength.
I just cannot stay away, for I do surely believe in fate, more specifically than ever before.
I can’t figure it out,
I wonder about Hemingway,
I imagine Buckowski,
what wanders weighed
upon their lives,
the exhaustion became
I will be 60 soon, It is ironic that I have lived this long. I have never known true happiness except in parts of my life. I recently knew love. Now all I focus upon is the happiness of others.
I recently came to terms with my life. A couple of months ago I came close to death. I managed my meds wrong, and they could very well have been the end of me. I found it frightening, but more so fascinating. I have been suicidal since I was twelve years old. So this happiness thing has kept me alive. It upsets me that I have let nearly fifty years rule my preoccupation with not wishing to live. I have not come to terms with the mistake of my medical needs. More engaging is my having found a way.
In my life I help people. I care passionately about those I am close to, though not always the ones I ought to, more likely the persons I am or have found happiness. Though that foil is misery, I still hold onto hope.
I once held myself to a moment of dropping my life into a river off a high bridge. All I had to do was unclasp my fingers. I have regrets about that day. I wonder today, four decades later what my life would be like on the other side.
Good night moon, you are a lovely reality.
Oh we fantasize,
the quiet, the sleep, the no longer
of being on the same page
When we imagine,
we often paint a pretty picture
because in our mind
anything is better than this,
we have forgotten everything.
When we allow ourselves
to go into the murky waters of
we purposely ignore
the beauty around us.
I wonder why it is
that when I would rather be
i do forget the beautiful faces
surround me every day
I suppose it is because
they are beautiful aren’t they
their soul, their heart,
that passionate embrace
That piece of their lives
is meant for someone else,
my mystique my muse my lover
is beyond my reach
So then I believe
that is what it is
the final response
to knowing we cannot achieve
the peace we know,
So instead we imagine death,
for in its absolute,
we can now begin to relax
stop trying to reach …
I’ve been looking all night,
the way the sky turns
a crystal clear arctic landscape,
a frozen anatomy of
our coldest time of year,
when one could walk naked into the element
and a soft smothering of hypothermia
might bring on a quiet
a slow departure falling into fantasy
the womb of mother nature
in safe and cradled arms
underneath the blue moon,
but time is of the essence
for the rage of night fall will bring upon us all
the wolf blood moon,
and that symbolic rage
would certain find our
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
The first time I read he died,
I thought it a plot line.
I wondered how could a prolific artist
make such a morbid decision.
I thought, characters, roles
in the book please
-real life, fantasy-
the strain of alcoholism is real,
the dangerous notion of
I am living proof.
He reached a level of proof he close to not deny.
I have walked through life with suicidal notions
of my life.
Most often the reasons are very real
mistakes I have made
a reputation of not meeting a standard
the simple notion of
we all have a job to do
we all have a job to do
yet today I am worthless,
barely able to complete a sentence
and yet here I am
speaking to this society
– we are all warriors –
some lost in our own fear,
others drawn upon the beauty
inspiration provides a healthy life.
I don’t feel healthy today.
Someone told me recently I have
touched so many lives.
What happens that day they wake and reslize
I was trying to convince myself
more attempting to guide them,
and I realized, I lost.
what happens then!
Have you ever wondered,
was it really a …
did the traffic suddenly change
was the fall
timed in such a way
that every factor
that all the t’s were crossed.
Because isn’t that what we’re left with …
figuring out why
understanding there is a reason
and this was meant to
Or is just jealousy,
she figured it out first.
I think her name was
somehow it stays with me,
the clothing line in her back yard,
with he lifeless body hanging,
wanting nothing more,
having decided this would be the answer
to everything she could possibly
ever wish for in the
rest of her life,
the last ten minutes before
she could breathe no more.
I’m sitting here writing about
I’m already the hero,
the delusional martyr,
the one that calls himself
but without the attraction
of the gorgeous girl down the street
who seemed to be the only one whom understood,
the only one who cared,
the only remaining factor
keeping this writer alive.
But who really gives a shit,
thankful for the job,
the composer who wrote their music
years ago with a completely different
outcome in mind.
Who is the winner, when there will be so much lost.
I would like to off myself,
be a folk hero,
that person they talk about
around the festive holiday,
old gramps ignores the dialogue,
‘tell me about his brother’
they would say,
and dad would then purse his lips
and speak of some seedy hotel in Florida,
he never named the city,
because then that would make the city
more real and attainable
then an entire state
filled with city hotels,
seedy ones you know.
They found him,
dead on the mattress,
no romantic ending
just a couple of bottles or rye
the bedding hadn’t even been turned
his body spread eagled,
one bottle laying in the corner
the other looked methodically
dropped out of his passed out hand.
I suppose the coroner
would have looked him in the eye
and said something like
“i’never seen a more peaceful looking corpse”
he’d found his end,
the battle won
a seedy hotel in Florida,
wearing khaki’s and a white t-shirt
not exactly dressed for the beach.
of course this was locked inside the mainland,
the ocean miles away, would have just made waves.
Glimpse of the vivid colourful shades on a palette of chaos
Loving everything that sparkles, is glitzified and shines in a reality type of life!
Words are the only thing left holding me together.
thoughts of yours & thoughts of ours...would create an unforgettable memoir !!!
Dare to Dream. Live to Love.
Poetry and Prose by Ana Daksina
COLLECTED THOUGHTS UNFOLDED
How to organize an unbelievable marriage
Rhymes and Reasons
© Scott F Savage
Secrets, Betrayal, Romance & Love, combined are the pieces of me
Drop The Guilt and Humanize
Writing & Image
Can you prove to me that you exist?
Book Reviews and Writing Tips
The Mystery, Motivation and Mastery of Life
we are fish that play in a sea of light
Let your soul burn a flame in this world. Be damned to make a difference. ~ Jenna Noel~